The Witch's Prophecy
by Soul of Ashes
Summary: Takes Place after Soul Reaver 2. Summoned to a modern realm, Raziel is lost without the help of a young teenage sorceress. But is he willing to leave her behind for Nosgoth? [Complete?]
1. Conjuring

Author's Notes: I bade you to let me know if I should continue this... Amanda is, of course, me.... but I don't practice magic. It came to me, inspired by another fanfic I read... and Soul Reaver... this happens after Soul Reaver 2. Alas, Raziel has discovered his ill-fated destiny and so now, he is sent to MY world for a little while to recuperate... *Smiles* Any ideas? Suggestions?

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Beautiful sky. It beckons to those without wings to come frolic with those who do. People like you have wings. I don't... so I can't come join you... but you continue to taunt me. You rise farther above me, until I can't see you... dark angel, don't flaunt your prowess! Lend some to me, that I may reach you and embrace you, and touch what is not meant to be caressed by these fragile human hands...

Immortal flesh... untangible energy, coiling with serpentine ease about you... can you taste it, this awareness that is you but not you?

The cloaked figure bent over her magical objects, whispering and projecting as hard as she could with her psychic mind. The scrying stones were set in place amidst the scrawled signs, the perfect circle with its inner circles, like a mandala - a Hindu, Asian piece of artwork that represented harmony in the universe.

She spoke, crying out to the twinkling stars that shone through the broken canopy. The candle-light glittered upon her frosted, short hair hidden in the folds of the indescrepite fabric. Eventually, the 'mandala' began to glow. Its edges took on an unearthly gleam and her eyes sparkled with mixed terror, awe and excitement.

It's happening...!! Oh, my god, oh my god, I didn't except anything to come of this... This is too cool!!

The candles suddenly exploded, sending hot wax in every direction. The signs burned with white-hot ferocity, sending her staggering backwards with her spellbook, huddling against the crook of her oak tree with a soft whimper. There were soft gentle green sparks enfolding themselves above the mandala, giving her the sense that something was... conjoining together, becoming something whole. 

She saw rigid bone, now covered with exposed, tight muscles. Tattered, mud-stained cloth, losing all sense of color. Now it was almost complete. The figure dropped to the ground with a dull thud, displacing the candle holders and objects lent to the spell's casting. 

The girl closed her eyes. Then opened them again. The figure was still there. Unmoving. The vast forest about her gave no indication that he was gone. The eerie silence was undisturbed by any noise except her own thudding heart and quickened breathing. Finally she moved her leg, her worn sneaker rustling the fallen leaves and making a sound almost too loud to hear. 

She scuffled forward, clutching the spellbook to her chest, the cloak covering her ordariny outfit of jeans, tee-shirt and long-sleeve button-up plaid shirt. Beneath her magical appearance, she was as normal as any teenager in this stupid town.

Upon closer inspection, she realized this man wore a cowl. This... thing anyway... appeared to be as battered as though it had pulled itself from the very depths of miserable hell. The cowl was designed with some unknown design that she couldn't decipher, as part of the ink was lost in the untold struggles he had suffered. He - whover, whatever he was - was not responsive.

Hell.

He seemed dead.

She brushed her fingers over his soft, night-black hair. It was the brightest thing on him. Everything else seemed muted and dulled by time itself. But his hair seemed incredibly soft, like fine silk. Like her hair, minutes after it's dried and been washed with decent conditioner.

Her hands slipped from his hair to his cheekbones, her fingers nervously sliding underneath the cowl. It was then a three-fingered claw reached up, snatching hold of her bone-thin wrist.

The girl screamed.

The man was definately not dead. His eyes fell open, and she gasped to the unearthly blaze that emanated from the depths of his cold, empty sockets.

A voice that seemed not to come from where his mouth should have been came to her ears anyway. It was cold and blatantly aristocratic, each sylable given its own show with swift precision. 

"Where... where am I? And who are _you, _child?

The girl's mouth worked, her hood falling away from her tousled short hair, her voice hoarse and raw from screaming and chanting. "A-Amanda! I'm 16 years old, I live with my mom and my four cats and I go to school here in town, I didn't mean to do anything wrong, I work with magic and I didn't expect anything to happen, not to mention summoning--"

"Quiet," the man spoke, and at once she felt the impression of weariness. His claws slipped from her wrist, leaving the skin red with the impressions of them. She fell back, sitting on her folded legs, sensing the unreal vertigo that came off him in gentle waves. 

"Are you going to be okay...?" Amanda tucked her hands into the arms of her cloak, shivering from the cold. Some of the candles were still lit, casting a faint orange-yellow glow over everything. The creature's pupilless gaze was glazed anyway, unfocused, staring into space.

"Say your name for me," Amanda continued softly, scooting forward. "Don't go away on me. Say your name." 

It took the man a moment. He closed his eyes, opened them again as he rolled onto his back and stared through the trees at the stars. She was positive that if he could, he'd probably feel nauseated. But the cavern below his ribs where his innards were supposed to be were entirely devoid of a stomach or kidneys or anything of the sort. 

Finally, after an age, the man spoke.

"Raziel... I am Raziel."


	2. Schnozmoth

Author's Notes: Okay. There is something stupidly funny in this fic. Or else just plain stupid. But don't flame me for it. I dont' feel altogether gothic today... I'll do gothic in the next chapter, so there! *Grins*

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Amanda's grunted in her strain, dragging the unconscious body of the wraith man into the trees. It wasn't safe there where she was, for although it was hidden in the trees by the river, there were plenty of youngsters and older individuals like herself who felt it amusing to party, hidden in the forests of the night.

There was a gentle slope. She didn't see it coming but felt it as she lost her grip on his claw and fell backwards, rolling end over end before she smacked shoulder-first into the concrete wall that served as the river's dam.

Stars exploded in her vision. When she shook it off, her ankle was throbbing and the back of her head felt strangely moist. 

Most intelligent, she commended bitterly to herself. She checked the man, saw that he was alright, and pulled him down into the dry leaves and covered him with the warm cloak. Then, after ensuring his safety, she scrambled up the embankment to fetch her spellbook and what remained of her components.

She stood at the lip of the slope, staring down into the leaf-covered niche where her summoned wraith slept. She wasn't sure if it was real sleep or if it was merely an absence of life altogether. Indecisive of leaving him alone, she bent her knees and crouched, staring down as the distant sounds of car horns and squealing tires from the mainstreet wafted to her hearing.

"I hope you stay put," she said, half in threat and partially in worry. Finally she stood up, turning as she bunched her belongings into her shirt and started away to the booze bottle-shard covered path. 

She barely reached the shrub-hidden mouth of the path when she saw five or so individuals coming in her direction. As expected, her heart thudded twice as fast at the sight of them and she struggled to hurry her pace and escape the path before they reached it. Unfortunately, too many drinks had passed their mouths and they spoke up, rough and unkind.

"Hey, weird girl!" a black-haired one with a badly shaven goatee cawed. "Whatcha doin' out here in the middle of our party spot? You wanna party wi' us?"

Amanda offered a tight smile. "No, thanks. I want to go home." She turned to move around him, but another one pushed into her way.

"C'mon... you sayin' bein' at home's more fun than hanging with us, baby? Give me a break!!"

"Yeah, what if I am!?" Amanda said, backing away slowly as the adrenaline began pumping. She wasn't weak. She hated to think that she was weak, and berated herself almost with psyhotic ferocity if she did not do something correctly. Now, she was about to be jumped. "Get out of my way and let me go home, dammit!!"

"No, I don't think so," the goatee man growled, dropping his bag of booze and heading toward her. Amanda turned and fled back down the path, losing her shirt with its items in a bush before she fumbled in the dark for some kind of weapon.

Her fingers closed on a thick piece of wood. She heard them come crashing through the brush and spun upwards, swinging the branch in a deadly arc to smash the first one in close range across the face. He crowed like a wounded animal, stumbling sideways into a large boulder.

Amanda pushed herself up to her feet, shrieking again with banshee-like rage as she swung blindly, seeking to break anything the stick came into contact with. But there were too many and she couldn't hit all of them at once. Soon enough one of the men grabbed her around the throat and threw her down, wresting the stick from her blistered grasp.

The man's nose gushed blood. He was one of the less fortunate who hadn't been quick enough to escape her flying weapon. Now he bent over her, growling in her face. 

"You're gonna pay for the trouble you caused, bitch," he chuckled.

And choked. 

He toppled off to one side, twitching. A silent assailant swept among her attackers, rendering them far more wounded than before.

The stranger dropped from a branch from above, delivering a powerful kick to a nearby teenager. The kick was enough send him crashing through the brush, smack into a tree trunk. He crouched, then sprang for a third attack. The sound of tearing fabric was what followed. 

Chaos erupted. He battered them senseless and sent them running like desperate fools.

Amanda remained miraculously unharmed in the disarray. She found herself staring at the man who straightened, tattered folds of flesh silhouetted behind his ruined body. His eyes moved toward hers and he spoke again, this time flecked out in amusement.

"Don't thank me," he said coldly before stepping toward her, reaching a claw down after a moment's pause. 

She stared at it, before taking it, being pulled to her feet. He handed her her cloak and she bunched it up against her chest, looking down with a dizzying sigh.

"I wonder, are all people so kind in this time period?" He dropped her hand at once, turning away from her and walking some distance down the path. He lifted a paper bag and peered at its contents before wrinkling the corners of his eyes. He tossed it aside.

"Time period...? What are you talking about?" Amanda brushed the leaves off her cloak and her shirt, peering toward him. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but the pale mist of glow in his eyes was unmistakable. 

Raziel turned on his heel, closing his claws together into fists. "Is this not Nosgoth? This place...? You don't look like a normal human."

"What's a human supposed to look like, then? Glowing eyes, three-claws per hand and a bad attitude?" quipped Amanda, taking little time to bother measuring her words.

The wraith growled, lurching toward her in a threatening manner. "Girl, I don't know who you are, and in all honesty, you are in no position whatsoever to make idle insinuating comments."

Whatever. "Look...I-I'm sorry. It's just... I almost got mugged by five horny jerks and I couldn't even save myself. If it weren't for you, I would have died. And you told me not to thank you. So I'm not."

Raziel gave her a measured stare. He reached up, scratching his claws through his hair before sighing. "Did _you... _bring me here?"

"Yes... But it wasn't intentional. I'm not a practiced magic-user... I just... was trying to do something... I was trying to conjure a friend..."

"A friend?" 

"Yeah... Nevermind. Look, it's stupid. What are we going to do?"

"Perhaps... you can help me fit in until you can work your magic to return me to Nosgoth."

Amanda snorted. "F--?! Oh.... Damn. Well, um..." She swallowed, laughed nervously. "First thing you're gonna have to do is, um... try not to kill anyone. And hide. You need clothes!"

"I don't need _clothes,_" Raziel retorted.

"Yes, you do," she insisted as she wandered back up the path. "You'll need an identity other than Raziel... meanwhile, every night, I'll meet you out here and we'll figure out how to send you back to Schnoz Moth."

"It's... _Nosgoth._"

"Whatever!"


	3. The Sorceress

Author's Note: Alright... time for a bit of seriousness now. Raziel's POV, somewhat, is always rather fun to write from... granted if I can get into the whole gothic mood. Thank you, EVERYONE, for reviewing! I've made a few adjustments to chapters since someone said that there were a few choice phrases that detracted from the story. but since you only pointed out the phrases, I wasn't sure how to change them except make them a bit lighter and...weirder. At any rate! 

Ansem: *Slaps her* Just be quiet and let them read!  
Gah! Thanks, for reminding me, ANSEM! Hee...

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Raziel watched in shadows as the girl stole away from the path, leaving him to his toils. He was no longer exhausted by his cross-dimension journey, and felt a burning desire to explore this strange new world. The girl's warnings did not phase him - he had developed a strengthened pride in his abilities to look after himself. 

Certainly, he could not die. But in a world like this, would there by any safe places to return to should he lose his spectral strength? 

The thought made him stop and rethink his eagerness to explore. 

It makes no difference. I'll just have to be wary.

In the dying moon's light, Raziel pressed on down the path toward the sound of running water. Here, the dam had cut off the water's path. Some of the onslaught poured over the edges of the strange concrete. The footing was stone and above, the stars shone weakly in the thin light that escaped over the mountains. The air smelled fresh and clean; it buzzed with the sensation of warm, fresh souls that flittered about here and there before finding their way to the Spectral Realm.

He breathed deeply, stepping toward a cliff ledge. The water appeared to his sharp vision to be no more than 2 feet deep in most parts. But here, at the ledge, was an area for swimming. So the town youth had a swimming hole, did it?

There were no humans here. He moved on, finding cut paths leading further downstream. His cloven feet stirred bits of glass, making sharp contrasting bell-like sounds as he scuffed them down the stone pathway. On either side of him, as stone gave way to earth, bushes rose above on either side of his head.

He became vaguely aware of a tightness in his chest. He paused, resting his hand over his chest curiously. Then he realized what it was that caused the sensation and he closed his eyes tightly. The Reaver was alive and well, worming its way inside of him. But it was drowsy. Being so far from the heart of its home, it felt no inclination to exert its will.

Good. 

But it would still need to feed. As would Raziel, else they would both perish.

He continued down the path, and after a moment immediately emerged at the edge of a dull village. Before him, a dirt road sloped down to his left toward a sprawling flat-land, littered with tall lights that emitted glowing energy that made him wonder at the mechanism of such a miracle. If they were fire, then how did one manage to light each one of them? Beyond that, a line of buildings, with sloping roofs and dull glass windows, held sleeping occupants. Sounds, unlike anything he'd heard, came to his hearing over the now almost completely silent sound of the river.

Curiousity pulled him to see where these buildings would lead. But his fear and his uncertainty kept him back within the safety of the green.

Alright, he thought peacably as he turned about and made his way back to the hiding place. _Until that child Amanda returns, I'll remain here._

* * * * *

In due time, Amanda found what she needed. It would have to do... and it would take time. She didn't go home to sleep, but instead spent the entire remainder of the night in her room, searching through every book and reference until she discovered an ancient Egyptian method of restoring physical form. What was even better, it would tie into his natural ability of absorbing souls.

She found out what Raziel was, and why he looked so familiar. Not entirely helpless in terms of wraiths, she read up about his gifts. Usually half-dead monstrosities usually needed some sort of spiritual substance to keep them living. 

"Basically... the more souls he absorbs, the better he looks," she murmured, bookmarking the page as she shut the book. She turned the alarm on her clock off and pulled herself into bed, closing her eyes.

Now it would be a simple task of collecting the proper ingredients and practicing the appropriate words. And convincing her mother to let her stay home from school so she would get enough sleep in order to perform the task.

* * * * *

It was dull. Infuriatingly boring waiting for the time when the girl would return. But as the sun sunk again he gazed, hidden in the trees with stupefied boredom, she came.

She moved through the trees, wearing a jacket and carrying a single book and a leather pouch of things. He was used to seeing such objects, as they were commonplace among the archons of his brotherhood of vampires. Yet to see them on such a uniquely clad girl made him stare and ponder the true origin of her strangeness.

"I've got something. It isn't clothes. But it's a start," she explained, setting her objects aside. She opened the book in front of her, sitting with her legs splayed out on either side of her, knees bent. 

Raziel folded his arms over his chest. "I hope you can conjure me a soul, witch."

"I could. Or you could just wait two more seconds and be patient," Amanda responded sharply. She immediately winced, turning her face away. "Sorry... I just... I get defensive. People are always bitchy with me..."

"It is partially my own fault... I don't mean to be unkind. You're going out of your way to help me. I'm sure it isn't easy for you."

"It's no big deal... here." She turned pages in her book, smiling as she straightened slightly, fishing about in her pouches. She cleared a space free of leaves on the ground and drew her symbols. Raziel sat up slightly, leaning close and watching in fascination. As a vampire, magic hardly interested him for matters drew him often to the managing of his lands.

She spoke. The tongue was old, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting to Raziel's ears. When she finished, a soul suddenly came shrieking from the shadows, confused and bewildered. Raziel turned away, immediately pulling his cowl from his face. Without hesitation the soul came, drawn into him, vanishing with a last bitter cry.

She shivered slightly. The feeling, the sound of it alone, made her cringe away in spite of herself. She wasn't practiced in magic... in fact, this was her first time ever summoning anything. The soul was her second successful 'summons', but strangely enough she wasn't surprised. Why could she do these things, when all her life she had tried?

Raziel watched her, his eyes glowing with renewed strength. She swallowed, covering her mouth to keep herself from giggling in an aloof, defensive manner. 

"So... what is your solution for me... 'fitting in'?"

Amanda swallowed heavily, tucking what short strands of frosted hair remained of the hack job a friend of hers had performed behind her ears. "Well... I've got a transformation here. It can enable you to restore your body to its full, happy, healthy state it had before you got the crap kicked out of you - literally - but the thing is you can only heal your body to that way as you eat more souls--" Amanda cocked her head to one side, meeting the curiously shocked gaze Raziel was giving her. "--What?"

He motioned to her spellbook carefully with one claw as he spoke, softly, "You... can do this?" Disbelief and skepticism colored the whirling vortexes of his eyes. He chuckled.

"I don't know. But it's better than sitting around your rear end all day, doing nothing, right?"

"That's not what I... Listen. Just... do what you can. I assure you, it probably won't work," he replied softly, looking up toward the sky, reaching to adjust the cowl again.

Amanda smiled, tentatively - for this was new to her - reaching out. She patted his arm and then bent to her magical workings. "Not with that kind of cheeriness, Raziel... just trust me..."

"I do." Raziel did a slight double-take. _Do I trust her? Yes. She agreed to her word. And the soul... she brought me here. Undoubtedly she must hold some sort of extreme power. Not nearly as much as Moebius's._

"Alright, then! Let's get started!" Amanda breathed, scraping out a new circle and beginning to murmur and chant in the delightful Egyptian tongue, the language that Raziel sensed warmth and strangeness and a comfort that was unlike anything the vampire had felt before.

Then the pain came.

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A/N: So... bad? Good? PLEASE let me know if it has improved... I'm DYING, here!!


	4. Spectral Realm and the Cat

Such torments could not last forever, Raziel knew. But such was the _pain _that he became dimly familiar once more with the agony of the Lake of the Dead. How it had twisted his form to its decrepit state, how it had been his ancient tomb for centuries. He screamed for a countless age, tormented by the magic that tried to overrun the solid spell the Elder God had worked on his ravaged corpse.

When he awoke, he was not whole. The night spun overhead, all around him, its sounds and odd smells. The stars spun overhead, and he saw the light trails arc in swooping semi-circles that vanished beyond his sight, beyond the mountains.

Amanda sat herself beside him, nearly sagging over his body with her face tucked into the cowl near his shoulder. She convulsed slightly. Strangely he felt the compelling urge to rest his claw against her shoulder and he did not resist it. When the weight of his touch settled, she raised her face to his own and she smiled weakly. Her face appeared haggard and wane, dark circles under her eyes.

"You took my soul a bit there," she whispered hoarsely. She slid back from him, reaching to touch her throat. It was thin, her hands bony. 

Raziel immediately felt a deepening sense of self-loathing. He needn't look to see if the spell had worked. He was looking better - more flesh to his otherwise undead appearance, the muscles and bones having knitted themselves together as humanly possible. 

All for a price. Raziel hissed to himself, shaking his head as his eyes expressed a sadness and self-loathing he only felt when he had discovered it was he who had killed his Sarafan brothers and himself so long ago, instead of Vorador that time...

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly, lines of distraught pain in the corners of his gleaming eyes. 

"Hey," Amanda responded, perking up slightly. "I told you it was no big deal. How are you feeling...?"

Raziel sat up slightly, tucking his arm around her waist. She leaned against him, her spellbook sitting in her lap with her left hand resting against it. "Surprisingly, I feel... well. I'm functioning well enough... but I'm not whole."

"Of course not! Didn't you hear what I said? I said--" Amanda stopped short in her sentence, taking several deep breaths as she calmed down. "I meant.. that... the more souls you devour - that's what you do, isn't it? - the more your physical appearance shall improve to its former state. Now... I don't know how many souls it might take for you to reach your true self again, but it's an improvement besides."

"Good god...!!" Raziel breathed, before shaking his head. He stirred slightly, stretching out one leg in front of him. It seemed... better somehow, but he couldn't quite put a thought to it. 

So it seems improved. But the only way I can see to its truth is to find out for myself. And that would mean I'd have to go on a brief hunting trip.

Which posed another problem. What exactly was he going to eat?

"You can start with those creeps," Amanda said, carefully following his train of thought by what she had told him. "I don't know about you, but in my book I don't think half the people in this little village deserve to live."

Raziel could only chuckle grimly. He stood up, giving her an easy al-ee-oop to get her on her own feet. "Leave that for me to decide... perhaps I needn't have to kill anyone."

He started to walk off. Amanda struggled to follow. "Hey, where are you going!?"

"For a stroll..."

"But--"

"Go home." The command was harsh, quipped with precision to make damned sure she'd listen. 

Amanda scowled. Then she turned, book in grasp, to pick her way through the carefully untreaded path of those who hadn't walked before her.

* * * * *

He stalked his prey silently, keeping carefully to the shadows, the whisper of his wings on the wind the only sound - that which could easily be mistaken for leaves on the ground. He followed the river trail for as far as it went before he moved along the treeline, toward a partying group of youngsters. There weren't too many, but there were enough that one could go unnoticed for a few minutes.

A young man finally detached from the throng and staggered off toward the trees to relieve himself. Raziel waited, seeing him stumble toward a stone possibly designated for the purpose of purging unnecessary fluid. There, from the shadow of trees, he sprang the moment he was finished and held him tight, growling as his struggles proved in vain against Raziel's power. He pulled low his clan banner and his soul flickered to his immortal eyes, pulled free as he fed from it.

He could _feel _himself being slowly restored, hear the bones crackling to wholeness and his flesh grow, muscles shifting and flexing. It was exquisite, a bit painful but not quite unpleasant. He was not compelled to cease until he heard the voices. 

"Hey! Zack! Where are you!?"

"Yo, man, where'd you go!? Ya get lost, man?" 

Raziel lurched away, shoving the drained youth into the stone with a grimace, feeling himself slipping almost on instinct into the spectral realm. He lost all sense of time as it became irrelevent, and the beings before him froze as though in a time-lapse, eventually slowing down and vanishing from sight entirely. The world warped around him, tilting sickeningly so much so that he felt his insides nearly twist.

He fled through the trees, unable to bat them aside, so he had to squirm and move swiftly back along the trail, whose turns twisted sharper and more dramatically than before. He stopped short, seeing in the middle of the stone pathway a planar portal stood waiting, spinning purple instead of white.

He dashed to it without thinking, seeing ghosts wandering. Sleepless ghosts, their forms twisted and misshapen and they regarded him with baleful, empty eyes. They otherwise appeared harmless. All the same, he stood to the portal, breathed deep, and found himself standing by a rushing river.

Amanda stood nearby, book in hand, hazel eyes glittering with that recognizable pride.

"I guess you're pretty damn glad I stayed, huh? There were no portals for you... So I had to make you one."

"What?" Raziel stepped toward her, growling as he reached out to seize her by the jacket again. Then stopped, staring, in cold wonder at the pale white flesh that was his arm. He swallowed heavily, feeling the throat mechanisms working dryly with no saliva to yet coat his undead throat.

Throat! He had a throat. He reached up, tearing the cowl away and felt his jaw, his chin. A sense of terrible, wonderful joy and mixed feelings swept over him. He was... whole. And naked, perhaps, but whole. His tattered wings hung behind him, surely, bleeding as profusely as the day they had been rendered useless.

The pain was dull but annoying all the same. He quickly replaced his clan banner around his waist and sighed.

Amanda handed him her jacket and motioned for him to follow.

* * * * *

"How am I supposed to fit into these?" 

Raziel spoke with mild irritation from outside of her window. He was tucked somewhat beneath the house itself, since it was raised well above the ground. He upheld the baggy pants her mother wore around the house, dark blue which was the only thing that Amanda deemed would fit. Amanda poked her head out, hissing like an agitated cat.

"Look," she spat. "These are the ONLY damn things that will probably fit you - badly - so I wouldn't complain. It's not like I can conjure up money and take you shopping--" She stopped, blinking momentarily as a thought struck here. "--anyway! So just... deal. Here's a sweatshirt. It's called a 'hoodie'. Just slip it on over that and you should look.. semi-normal."

"I don't care about being normal," Raziel grumbled, trying to figure out the workings of this thing called a 'hoodie'.

"No... no, you put your head through... yeah. Crap, the hood is backwards! Here...turn it--"

"I've got it!" Raziel cried, turning around and raising his arms. The sleeves were a big too long, and flopped about his claws like useless bags of blue skin.

Amanda smirked, covering her mouth as she mumbled, "Not quite... but... oh well... Here. Climb into my room." She leaned out, stretching her hand toward him. 

He glanced at her hand, then at her face with a look of worry. "I doubt you can lift my full weight, child... Besides, you forget-" He shook a claw at her, "-I'm not human. I can manage my way up there."

Amanda sank back against her pillows, watching him scramble up and manage to squirm his way into her window, and sit crouched on her black and white comforter with gray chinese dragons sewn into it. He closed the window quietly behind him, and turned only to be faced with a large, fat gray cat perched on her dresser above his head.

"He likes you."

Raziel ducked away from the sniffing face, wide twitching ears and ticklish whiskers. "So it seems... away, creature! Why are you still trying to sniff me!? Persistent beast--!"

"Aw... he just wants some love. Come here, baby!" Amanda opened her arms, and the cat jumped, clearing Raziel's folded legs and landing on the blankets. After a bit of coaxing, the independant animal found itself in the loose, though comforting embrace of his master.

"Where are you going to stay...? I'm going to have to deal with school somehow and mom and at the same time..." Amanda sighed, petting the beast quietly, a soft purr emanating from its motionless body. 

"It will be fine," he told her. "Go to school tomorrow. Attend your lessons and return. Don't worry about where I am. I'll be here."


	5. Stranger With Time

Amanda walked through the familiar, droll halls of school with the marble floors and extravagant "spirit week" decorations. Her costume was simple: Black lipstick, nailpolish, and gothic paraphenalia. Raziel was at her home, in a sort of state of torpor while asleep in her closet, which she had cleared out, arranging her belongings in a corner of her room somewhat neatly.

Her best friend came up beside her. She was a good person, but as of late she had been pulling herself away from her, withdrawing into her realm of magic and now, of course, Raziel. It had only been a couple of days... but still...

"You know that guy you like? Chris? He's going out with someone," Janessa said quietly. 

Amanda said nothing, walking around that morning, unzipping her jacket now that she was safely inside the warm halls. There were few people here so early in the morning, around a quarter after seven-o'clock. 

"Are you okay?" Janessa said, her voice lilting high in nearly frantic worry. She was always dependent on her friendship, far more than Amanda needed hers. Janessa was not ugly. She was, actually, dangerously thin. Amanda blamed anorexia; the girl insisted otherwise. 

"I'm fine," Amanda said in a smiley, false convincing way. "Just thinking."

"Where were you for school yesterday?" 

"I was kind of bogged down with a quick flu. Puking, y'know, all that."

"Oh."

With a wordless command, they moved to the cafeteria doors like creatures of the same mind. Amanda sighed; she didn't want to go down there. Rather she wished to be alone and try to think of a way to return Raziel to his world. _ Nosgoth.... _

They sat at the table. She only half-listened to Janessa speak, a terrible feeling of guilt creeping into her because she knew she should have been. But when one's world is suddenly turned upside down by the arrival of a truly unique individual. He wasn't exactly who she expected, though...

"Amanda!" Janessa said, almost in irritation as she shook the girl's arm. "That guy's been staring at you since you've been here."

Amanda turned quickly toward where Janessa's eyes went. Through the wired glass of the cafeteria doors she saw him, but as soon as their eyes met briefly in a flash of green-against-gray he fled, vanishing out of view away from the door.

"He was cute," Janessa grinned.

Amanda ignored her. "Stay here." And she fled, hearing her startled exclamation as she abandoned her backpack and books to go through the doors and look up and down the hall. 

"Hey!" she yelled, feeling a thrill shoot through her. She never raised her voice, especially now. She stepped forward, turning left then and into the halls. Her sneakers squeaked loudly on the floor but she didn't care. "Come on... whoever you are, why the hell do you keep looking at me!? Hey--"

A hand clamped over her mouth. Another arm around her waist, pulling her inexorarably into the pitch blackness of a utility closet. Her shriek was muffled and useless and she strained against the rockhard, ungiving body. 

"I don't know who you are," a gutteral, British voice murmured, "or who your new little friend is... but your secrets won't last long." 

"What do you want?" she managed to choke past the cold fingers over her mouth.

"Your friend you summoned beat the blighters out of my boys, miss," the voice replied smoothly. "They are my best customers and my favorite servants. I don't want you bludgeoning them up on any bloody night of the week you want."

She was pushed. Rather hard, out into the hall. The floor met her hands before her face did; the impact was softened. Still, her cheek stung and she saw a pair of black worn boots pass in front of her vision. There came a loving caress that chilled her to her core through her hair.

"Poor young thing," the man went on. "Time is so short... better hurry... or you'll soon find yourself running out of it..."

The boots faded away. She closed her eyes before sitting up, blinded by the sudden presence of light. "Are you okay?" the janitor said.

"I don't feel so good all of a sudden," Amanda mumbled. "I think I'm going to go see the nurse."


	6. Memory's Embrace

A/N: There's a weird part in this chapter that I wrote for the sake of looking into Raziel's past. Yes, I know this fanfic is fairly boring so far... but you'll see who the stranger is.. and learn what the cat's name is!!

------------

Raziel pressed his hands gently against the feline's sides. He still hadn't learned its name, but it greeted him by pushing its nose through the small space of the slightly ajar door. After trying to talk it out of trying to come in, he opened it a space before quickly shutting it. He held the creature in his lap, petting it softly, hearing its living body rumble with life and content.

After an hour of this, he layed back in the wide closet, feeling his eyes drift close. As he lay half-dormant, time spun by and his mind wandered to days of old when he was a lieutenant under Kain's dominant rule. Nosgoth was bent to his will with very whim and desire that flickered through the madman's deranged mind. With every new want, Nosgoth lost more and more of its vitality as it was destined to the moment of the Pillars' corruption. 

He remembered living happily, ignorant of his life as a cursed Sarafan priest, with his brothers, watching as each new evolution stole over them one by one, starting with Kain and then Raziel, as he was eldest.

In the musty darkness of near-sleep, he did something he never thought he'd do. Raziel slept. And he dreamed.

* * * *

"Raziel."

The vampire turned, overcome immediately by the frightfully immediate embrace of his Sire, drawing a small gasp of alarm from his corpse before his mouth was covered by hungry mouth and fangs. The silver, colorful pain was unique and strangely familiar as Kain's teeth pierced his sensitive tongue. His jewel of crimson escaped in between and dripped down Raziel's jaw.

"Why?" Raziel said in a hoarse voice, wiping his mouth and regarding his Sire with a look of mild disdain.

Kain smiled, the wicked tips of his fangs flashing red with his blood. He waved his hand against the air with the usual distant, devil-may-care flair that preceded a usually long speech. "You are my eldest son," he answered. "And I rule Nosgoth. I take what I want. But you deserve so much more than what I've given you. You seem... unhappy of late. I want to show you something." He held out his hand. "...Come!"

The vampire regarded the hand. Like his own, recent developement, it was no longer quite a human hand but two long deadly claws and a third that replaced the thumb. He didn't take it, but simply nodded his head and followed Kain through the halls of their elaborate stronghold. The walls illustrated their sucess as the vampire nation slowly expanded and crawled over the landscape like a creeping ooze. Every mural depicted a stage in their evolution, their rise to power, their imminent godliness that would come only with the total domination of the human race.

Here where Kain stood was the balcony that allowed him to gloat over his prize; Raziel stood some ways behind him to one side, feeling strangely uncomfortable with the coming surprise.

"Come closer!" Kain insisted, motioning again. "Look here... all this we have accumulated together, you and I. Still it troubles me that you don't ask for a palace of your own or a kingdom upon yourself like your brothers."

"I'm not greedy like them, my Lord." Raziel folded his arms over his chest, gently thumbing the edge of his clan cape. He felt a claw brush over his shoulder and turn him about to face the vampire.

"Don't be afraid to ask for anything, Raziel," the vampire assured quietly. "I have, myself, amassed much to give. What the brothers ask of me is small price to what is within my power."

"And what is within your power?" 

To which Kain merely laughed and turned away, walking back into the corridors with a soft sigh of satisfaction that only baffled Raziel more than the vampiric kiss of greeting.

* * * * *

Raziel awoke to the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing. Voices passed between daughter and mother before the door cracked open. The cat was still asleep on his chest, but pounced past Amanda as she stood in the doorway. 

The look on her face stole the euphoria of the dream away. "New problems?"

"Someone tried to mug me at school. He sounded like he knew...about you. He had a weird accent, too..."

Raziel stood up carefully, brushing aside the coathangers as he stepped toward her. "Are you alright?" 

Amanda reddened slightly. She touched her red, swollen cheek and murmured, "Yeah... I guess... Look, let me get back to my books. It won't matter once you return to your home."

"No," Raziel hissed, resting his hand on her shoulder heavily. "Don't. I'm interested now. You said he had a strange accent?" 

"Yeah, he sounded all dark and British like an English crack dealer. It's a drug. Narcotic," she added as an after-thought because it occured to her Raziel's world might not have pharmacuetical centers or drug stores anywhere. 

Raziel made a noise of comprehension, his hand still on her shoulder as he brushed a few pieces of hair from his face with the other. "I'm going to your 'school' with you."

"What! No, you're not! You don't even have anything to where, and you don't have a student ID--" Amanda grabbed hold of his arm, practically bouncing on her toes in her distress.

"You asked me once to trust you," Raziel whispered, pulling her close enough that their bodies stood only a hearsbreadth away. "Now I must ask you to trust _me._"

"But..." Amanda swallowed, finding herself hopelessly lost in the circle of his arms and greatly comforted by it in some strange way. "Oh... damn it... how am I ever going to have a normal life again...?"

------------

A/N: I thought that Kain kissing Raziel was in a way a sort of show of his dominance over his brothers. And his particular 'interest' in Raziel... and as for the stranger? Well...you'll have to see. Raziel can go to school without being seen by simply acting as one of the students... or Amanda can set up checkpoints Planar Portals around the school to meet up with him... either way, I'm not sure which way is better. Heh, heh... being a student would be quite humorous.. or a teacher, even!! hee... a janitor... *Blinks*


	7. Waiting

A/N: Thank you, everyone, for reviewing! Silmuen, Lunatic Pandora, Kaye, Tom, Shiwolf. I mean it! It really means a lot to me and it makes me feel ever so good to hear something from people. Even if it's, "This is such crap, I hate it!" So, I thank you! You're my inspiration when I'm down... and I try hard to keep writing and don't let things keep me from dreaming. 

-----------------

"Let me get this correctly," Raziel mumbled, holding out his arms and staring at the janitor outfit. "I am supposed to be a servant?"

"Something like that. Basically just walk around, uh... pushing one of those cart things with the mops. And you have lots of keys. Yeah," Amanda murmured, slipping her backpack on over her shoulder. "Do you remember the directions?"

"Just keep going up the hill," Raziel said softly, rubbing his arm.

"And when you get there in the spirit world, I'll have constructed a planar portal for you just outside the wall, okay?" Amanda smiled, reaching out to tug on his hand. "I'll see you..." Her voice was soft and quiet, tinged with uncertainty. Her green-hazel eyes drooped for a moment. Something troubled her but before Raziel could ask she hurried through the front door to her ride waiting ouside.

Raziel followed, quick to change to the spectral realm. He walked among the dead, making his way across the street. Time had stopped. Vehicles stood where they drove, eternally bearing them in the direction of their destination without getting there. Raziel took the road on the sidewalk up the hill, passing souls and spirits who did not see him nor acknowledge him.

Instantantly he found the warm glow of the Planar Portal. The Reaver hummed about his arm, imbedded in the cloth in the Spirit Realm, curiously testing the fabric as though wondering of its origin.

"Trust me," Raziel hissed to the acursed blade. "Give me a few moments and you'll go back to your regular soul-feeding..."

A moment later he stood in the raining outside of the high school. He was instantly drenched by the downpour, his black hair sticking to his pasty white face. Such was the weather of this time of year. He quivered slightly, time-restarting where it had stopped when he had entered the Spectral Realm.

A moment later Amanda strode up to him, pulling him away from sight into a tall wall of bushes, shoving a ring of dozens of keys into his grasp. "Just hook those onto there," the girl hissed, before she stood up. Her bag was probably inside the building, as it was not with her when he encountered her. 

Raziel sighed. He looked around for something familiar, but he couldn't find a thing. Those boxed metal things he had seen standing still and safe in the parking lots of the dirt road now moved around on the black, rain-slicked road just next to them. It was a constant stampede, like a river of technology roaring past his ear.

"It's okay," Amanda said, drawing his attention. "Just give me your hand, er... claw..." She winced before sighing. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"It was a good one," Raziel responded quickly. "Besides...you said I must see this attacker of yours. So I shall. You are my gateway to Nosgoth. I wouldn't fare well if you were suddenly murdered, would I?"

"No...I guess not..." 

"Are you sure you're all right?" The vampire sunk back on his haunches, oblivious that the back of his shirt was getting a little muddy - not to mention wet.

"I don't know... It's... I feel so weird. I must be tired or something... all this magic stuff... Last week, I've never cast a spell in my life and here I am, flinging Planar Portals around like it's a frisbee marathon."

"Once, I was human," Raziel said quietly. "Then I was a vampire. And then I died." He left it at that, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. "Honestly, I think we should continue on. And after this, I promise, we'll go out and do something nice together."

Nice...? I want to please her? What am I talking about? 

"Okay!" Amanda grinned, and to his alarm threw her arms around his neck and pressed close. Her breath puffed against his ear as she exhaled with a long, contented sigh. It occured to him she didn't care that it was pouring and she was wet. 

His arm went around her waist uncertainly. "You're going to be late."

"I already am, but don't worry about it. They won't miss me. Let's find our modern vampire dude."

* * * * *

Basically, Amanda skipped all of her classes. She spent most of her time cavorting in the halls with Raziel, watching and waiting for their special visitor to arrive. Raziel was at first very terrified of all these teenagers. Amanda often had to hide with him in the small elevator room's closet, and wait until the bell had rung again. Still, there were students and teachers on errands, whom they tried to avoid at all costs. 

One close-call involved However, it wasn't until they waited until four in the afternoon when Raziel started at the sound of a voice.

"That outfit _so _does not become you, stranger," the new vampire said. "Really... if you wanted us to meet... you could have sent your little pretty human to make an appointment. How good of you to wait, though, all _day_?"

"Where have you been?"

"Safely out of the sunlight," the vampire said, leaning against a wall, rolling his head back with a soft titter, caressing the marble. "How old this place is... I was here when they used this building as a mansion... a sort of inn for the rich..." As much as his head tilted back, the lights in the school were off already. It was difficult to see...

"We don't care about that!" Amanda snarled. "Why the hell can't you just leave us alone? I'm trying as best I can to get him home."

The stranger ignored her completely. Indeed, he seemed to ignore them both, leaning against the wall and rolling along his side so his back faced them. He covered his face with his hands, then, and sobbed.

Raziel flicked a piece of black hair from his face, a low growl of irritation promising more threats in due time. "Who are you? Answer me!"

"...Oh," the vampire whispered mournfully. "You don't remember me...? Raziel, I am your brother here too. Darius."

"All my brothers have been long dead, fledgeling," Raziel responded in contempt as he moved forward. "Enough with your lies! I've heard them from every possible mouth I could have trusted."

Darius pushed a few trailing strands of dark hair out of his face. It was a fine haircut, shoulder-length and amazingly straight. Not right for a man with such straight hair to wear it long, but somehow it made the vampire a bit more alluring. 

"I don't lie," he said in all seriousness, his voice taking on a new tone. "Come... outside, into the afternoon rain. I'll show you."

Amanda looked at Raziel, but he wasn't paying attention to her at all. Darius tucked his hands into his jacket, hunching his shoulders as they passed through the broad, curving brass and white stone-carved doors etched with miniscule graffiti by pencil. They crossed the street, squeezing in between a nearly ruined, stagnant building and a cracked privacy fence of rotted wood. 

Past that stood a thicket, gloomy and promising no comfort of light, warmth, or anything remotely dry. Amanda groaned under her breath and sucked in her displeasure, following the uncaring vampires who hardly seemed to mind they were getting drenched into the darkness.


	8. The Vampire Darius

* * * * * 

Beyond the carefully molded community of her town, far away from any noise of car or bus or engine - indeed it seemed they had stepped into another time altogether - stood a natural cavern, what appeared to have been an old mine. It was cleverly concealed beyond a tall wall of foliage, which dripped with moisture. The air here felt so close to Raziel's skin, he wanted to tear the stupid janitor shirt off.

The mine stared at them. From its depth, Raziel percieved the essence of vampires. The stench of it was unmistakeable - this place was the equivelent of a rathole, crafted for vampires.

"It isn't as bad as it looks... this is merely where we meet. To remain as inconspicuous as ghosts." Darius led them into the cave. Amanda stopped at the mouth of the mine, watching Raziel move on ahead. After a moment he stopped, hurrying back over to her with a measured leap. He grabbed her hand, forcing her to hold onto his arm.

"Stay close to me," Raziel hissed into her ear. "No matter what."

Cold rippled through her, followed by warmth which made her shake more. It was an irresistible quaking, as though someone were peeling back layers of clothing and exposing her to the chill air and then throwing a warm, fire-heated blanket about her shoulders. She decided she liked the sensation and tried to prolong it as she held onto Raziel's claw, following them into moldy shadow.

She trailed a hand across her hair, trying to see past it into the gloom. She swore someday she'd get it trimmed again, but had sworn to someone else that she'd try to grow it out. But, she realized, for awhile it would have to stay in her hair unless she learned how to stylishly clip them back which was too much effort on her part.

Being called a dyke was what made her indecisive.

She remembered the last dream she recalled upon waking. She was walking down a stairway or a tunnel, not unlike this one actually... The walls were dripping blood; stiflingly hot. Everything was, and then cold stole into her body draining every living cell out of her and replacing it with stagnant death.

Suddenly she didn't like this at all. A soft whimper pushed through her closed throat.

"Don't worry," Darius sang, and suddenly as they reached the end there was light. The ceiling was not jagged stone but wood, arches of firm huge wood too old and straight and identical in size to be new. Pillars held up the earth in case it decided to crumble in. The walls were furnished with dark, stained wood, and wall-hangings covered nearly all of that anyway.

Amanda's discomfort only increased as she looked around at the large couches. It was built for comfort, large sweeping doorways, with cast-iron doors, leading into seperate chambers. Her skin felt like paper, slowly burning, wrinkling and stiffening to frailness. The longer she stood in the room, the more the discomfort began to make her squirm. Darius had vanished behind a thick red velvet curtain to another end of the room.

A shrieking hellion exploded from the cushions slightly behind them, launched like a missile at Raziel. Claws first, it intercepted him and send all three figures tumbling backwards against a stack of pillows. Screaming, the creature attached itself to Raziel. Beneath the combined weight of them, Amanda was crushed. Her lungs burned for air and her shoulderblades throbbed.

Raziel bunched his legs, setting his claws against the other vampire, and pushed with all of his might. It - she, rather - flailed wildly as she sailed backwards through the air and landed with cat-like agility on her hands and the balls of her feet. She sat on the floor, hissing, fangs gleaming and rubies shining in her slitted eyes.

Raziel rolled to his feet and rose slowly, claws outstretched. He struck a beautiful figure, in spite of ridiculous janitor clothing. Amanda sat up, gasping and rubbing her chest. She watched his hair fall across the middle of his back, not quite its full length, and across his eyes. For a moment, she saw within the wasted beast that he had been before.

Darius showed himself again, reaching down to pull the female vampire up by her arm. "Stop! They're guests, Kafele," he admonished playfully. "And as such, they should be treated kindly."

"I sense hospitality is somewhat lacking of late," Raziel spat, not relaxing an inch from his attack position. The female vampire did neither. She stood up on her tip toes, craning her neck to see around Raziel, wrinkling her nose at the sight of Amanda.

Amanda caught her gaze and almost growled. "Woof," the teenager smiled, all teeth.

Kafele narrowed her eyes, her mouth tightly closed and lips hardened in silent rage.

"It's no fault of ours entirely," Darius supplied with sadness, sitting down after forcing Kafele to do the same. "Humans are coming too close to us. Not here, but at our main hiding place. I won't disclose its location to _her_." Darius jerked his head politely toward Amanda, who merely rolled her eyes. 

"I don't even have a freaking visa. Wherever it is, I'd have to walk there and I'd probably fall over exhausted before ever getting there."

"But you have a tongue. And words can go pretty far. If you really want to know, I can make you a mute. It won't hurt, I promise..." Darius chuckled, ignoring Raziel's irritated scoff.

"Why am I here?" the soul reaver demanded, moving backwards and looking around. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw eyes gleaming in the darkness, twin points of eerie light. Shapes flickered in the darkness, peering around the edge of the thick, dust-laden drapery

"Understandable question... you're obviously not from around here. You don't want blood, yet you seem to crave something. I can see it in your eyes. A hunger," the vampire continued with a sliver of fear.

Raziel couldn't help a small smile at his response. Any vampire of Nosgoth's past that still retained their former humanity would have regarded his existence the same way - with terror and hatred. The unfamiliar would always frighten those who knew nothing of it. And as for his unholy soullust... somehow, every creature could sense that, too. And run for their lives, or lash out in rage.

"But as to why you're here, you can ask your human friend. For now, consider me your friend. I have no reason to kill you and no desire to do so."

"Then why did you threaten Amanda?"

"And try to maul me in janitor closet?" Amanda piped cheerfully as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

"Because, when threatened, I must do all I can to stop something rather unpleasant from happening... I never meant to hurt you," Darius answered apologetically, transferring his gaze to the attitude-distraught girl. "Only frighten you. And you did just as I thought you might."

"How good of you. You're welcome." 

Darius sighed, crossing one leg over the other, folding his hands over his stomach. Kafele watched him, her eyes softening as she reached to caress his shoulder, her nails flashing slightly as her fingers kneaded carefully into the fabric of his coat. Her voice was very soft, timid. The words were lost even to Raziel. He didn't recognize the words. It sounded like another language altogether.

Raziel sighed. This was going to be awhile. He didn't want to waste time... he needed to return to Nosgoth. The desire was powerful and undeniable - he literally _needed _to return there. Not only was he aware that he frightened these people, he realized that this world frightened him terribly. Everything about it was unfamiliar and terrifying. 

Except Amanda. 

Suddenly Darius spoke. The shapes in the shadows became people. Vampires, too. Young boys.

"Manu. Mosi. Fetch our guest some clothes, for pity's sake... I'm growing ill just looking at him in those horrendous clothes!"


	9. Silly Vampire

A/N: Forgive my lateness once more... I am a disappointing bard, a withering teller of tales... I've been in that slump again but I return with a vengeance! Watch as my writing skills dazzle and amaze you! *BLinks* Oh, yeah, and tell me whatchoo tink?

-----------

"They are my children," Darius whispered in Amanda's ear. She jumped, turning to glare at him.

"I wish you'd stop doing that, you know."

"Ooh... Sorry," Darius drawled lazily as he sprawled out along the couch. They were waiting for Raziel to emerge from the chamber he was borrowing while he changed out of his clothes. Meanwhile, Manu and Mosi sat on the carpet face-to-face, playing with string - cat's cradle and such. An innocent game that they performed with complicated string patterns, alternating as they manipulated the string to their imaginations.

Manu was the eldest looking in mortal age, but as she couldn't guess vampire age just by looking at anyone, she knew from her study of the Egyptian language that it meant second born son. And Mosi was the first; Mosi appeared to be younger, however. They both shared similar traits, straw blonde hair and almost entirely black eyes. Loose gray shirts, black pants and sneakers on Manu. Simple soft, muted colors for Mosi.

"How does that come about?" Amanda mumbled, leaning on her elbows, chin in her hands. "I've read a lot of ways."

"Do you want to find out which one?" 

He was, no pun intended, dead serious. She shook her head no, and shifted a foot or two away from him. "Thanks, but I kinda like casting spells rather than suckin' somebody's veins out."

The vampire laughed, drawing a look from the twins and a little grin from Kafele as he spoke again. "You undermine the act itself as if it were awful!"

Amanda blanched.

"C'mon... I'm joking," he continued as the door opened and Raziel entered. "Ah... much better, don't you think?"

Amanda's throat lurched into her mouth for a minute. She gawked, closing her mouth, before blurting, "What a piece of yum!"

A choker around his throat was clasped with a small pale jewel. A form-fitting shirt around his chest and torso, that fell partway over his claws, which were covered with studded gauntlets. Substantial leather pants which shifted and stretched over his firm thighs and well-shaped calves swept downwards to dip into the tops of his mid-calf length boots. The boots buckled over with brass, studded around the toes and creased at every joint for mobility.

He held a jacket over his left arm, his hair combed back. Amanda's eyes constantly fell toward his belt, and constantly she forced them back to his face. Then he regarded her with amusement, as though knowing every moment where she looked and what she thought.

"I'm glad _two _of you are pleased. I've never quite worn boots before, except when I was human and then fledgeling." _And oddly enough, I find them... quite comfortable._

"I thought you'd like them. Manu and Mosi crafted the boots for you... those clothes were just ones I happened to have left over from my 'rebel' period."

Raziel brushed his hands down over the fabric, the accuracy of the sizes. No, he thought. I think these were literally made for me. He looked up, meeting Darius's contemplative gaze. "What did you mean," he asked, "when you said you were my brother here?"

Darius brushed his thumb over his chin, over his lips thoughtfully in a maniacal, brooding fashion as he spoke in an easy, understandable drone. "That we should trust each other. Being brothers means we come from the same Sire... and all vampires share the common First Sire, Cain."

"Kain!?" Raziel hisses, clenching his claws. "He was my father, yes... and a madman... he damned my corpse wrought by... fate and then damned my vampiric soul into hell. I hold no allegiance to anyone, or anything."

"Ahh... some vigilante out on his vengeful errands?"

"I was..." Raziel started, but trailed off only to sigh, drooping his shoulders. He felt the hunger again. The Soul Reaver was awakening, and with a dawning horror and a feeling of dread he now realized the Reaver was growing more accustomed to the finely written music of the spiritual world, beating its mad heart to the rhythem of the spectral atmosphere.

"You need to... ah...?" Darius stood up almost at once, motioning toward the exit, smiling. "What am I talking about? We have much to share here for our guests..." 

"You don't have what I need unless you're giving it all."

Darius said nothing.

Amanda watched all with great interest and apprehension. She recognized the signs, with mute fascination, as her eyes detected faint lines of energy, bands of potent imbalanced spiritual essence, arcing around his body. She leaned forward, sprawling over the arm of the couch, chin in her hands in a child-like fashion.

"I won't be a moment," Raziel promised... and promptly left, vanishing the next instant on the other side of the large wrought-iron door. 

His throat closed tightly as his clothes tingled, molding to his incorporeal essence and projection of self. The Soul Reaver once again expressed curiousity and interest in the new outerwear, hissing and whispering around the fabric before turning its attention to the wandering spirits. Once again they regarded him blankly before moving on. So close to the vampire's lair, the spirits lingered restlessly and so did the Reaver.

He smote them, feeling a terrible sadness as he did so, moving among them and giving them a place to remain within his own self, fueling his consciousness and giving purpose to their dreary unlives. Whatever God they went to, they wouldn't find it but would bask in the tainted light of his soul.

He wanted them to forgive him... felt that somehow they still had consciousness and feared him like any creature would rightfully do. Could they still think? Or feel? Surely they could - as he and the Reaver devoured souls, he could taste in some bewildered sense their personalities, their level of awareness and their fear.

"Trust me," he spoke aloud, listening to his voice echo in the corporeal bizarre forest. "I think I know how you feel..."

He returned quickly, the sense for Amanda very powerful as he rushed back inside, shaking off the moisture from his tattered hair. He flicked his green-glowing yellow eyes to the human girl, who sat flipping through her book again, her eyes passing over the words and then suddenly casting upwards to meet his. She blushed faintly, nodding to see him looking better, and laughed. 

"What are you looking at? Girl's gotta keep up with her studies, right?"

Why aren't you afraid of me...? What is it you have to hide? Oh, child, if you only knew how tired I am of secrets. _And deciet._

"I'm starting to worry about my mom," the girl said suddenly, and her face grew older with lines of worry and pain. She clutched at her throat, pulling at the thin layer of skin against her neck in a nervous fashion.

"We can't visit her now. Besides, you shouldn't worry," Raziel assured her, sitting down next to her as he watched Manu and Mosi's silent game. "She is safe while she remains ignorant of your doings."

"My doings are what might hurt her," Amanda added cuttingly, before lowering her eyes to the book again. She sighed, glad to be studying. The more she read, the more the spells seemed to stay ingrained in her thoughts. The power from the pages seemed to pour into her as water would pour into a glass, slowly filling her with its liquid ecstacy.

It was easier to deal with emotions by running away from them.

*-*-*-*

Darius moved unhindered in the shadows to the young human bent over her spellbook at the table. She had been studying tirelessly for an age, and now it was day and only now had she succumbed to exhaustion. He watched her sleep, leaning over the back of an adjacent chair, resting his chin in his hands and admiring the smooth white throat. Listened to the pulse of hot, drowsy blood pounding beneath the time-weathered skin.

"You know you're not allowed to," Mosi hissed from the doorway, glaring at Darius with child-like scorn--a very odd expression on an older boy's face, I might add. "He forbids it."

"Yes," Darius whispered, reaching to brush his fingers lightly over a bit of Amanda's hair that poked up from behind her ear. "But _his _name is not Raziel. And _he _whose name shall not be spoken here hasn't seen this girl. How should he expect me to resist?"

"You're the oldest," Mosi went on, and finally shut his door again quietly. 

"Yes... I should know better... but I'm not going to kill her... just a sip..." Darius leaned closer, sliding toward her so he could press his lips to her cheek softly, like a father to his studious child. Her eyelids stirred for a moment but otherwise she didn't wake.

To his ears, her blood was music and her body was its unbidding instrument, punctuating his thirst threefold as he smelled the vitality in the very skin. He was keenly aware of his hunger, and his inability to hunt due to the new day kept him from hunting otherwise unwarranted prey.

Just as his lips wandered close to her jaw, his fangs aching with irrepressible need, he felt a sudden claw wrench him back by his dark locks and throw him against the bookshelf with enough force to crack one of the shelves itself. Dazed, outraged, the interruption making his hunger turn to anger, he regarded the interceptor Raziel with little remorse. Raziel merely smiled, black eyes shining with that eerie light that gave Darius another one of those weird, fearful feelings.

"Tsk, tsk," Raziel tisked, shaking a claw at Darius and speaking in a condescending, irritating whine. "No, no, no, silly vampire. You're not allowed to exhaust my little sorceress while she sleeps."

"She wouldn't have noticed nor cared," Darius replied hotly. "Why do I need your permission?"

"Because, didn't you say we're like brothers? She is like a sister, under my full protection. If you want, you ask."

Raziel fixed his hard gaze on Darius, who straightened and smiled amiably. "Yes, yes... how foolish of me, I had forgotten."

"Don't test me." Raziel raised his arm, and for the first time allowed the dim outline of the Reaver to manifest itself and slowly let its dark force burn in the atmosphere of this world. Tasting physical air for the first time, the Reaver asserted itself for a fraction of a moment, humming intensely with interest. Long, serpentine bands of will coiled around itself, in tighter and faster circuits until it solidified into the rending, wretched Soul Reaver blade.

"Or I may not be able to stop this parasite from leeching you of your beloved immortal soul."

After Raziel regained control, he sent the Reaver back to the Spectral Plane and turned, seating himself at the table and watching Amanda regain her strength.


	10. Giving Thanks

Author's Notes: Since I had such a wonderful Thanksgiving, having three different dinners in three different places, I felt like writing this. Sure, it's December now... but I wanted Raziel to have a little cultural education from a teenager's perspective. Heehee.... The rest of you who like Raziel in the Real World, you'll really like this one!

-----------------

Time passed. It mocked Raziel, ever reminding him of what he might have been doing in Nosgoth, past, present or future. There was plenty of leisure in which he could feed freely upon the souls wandering in the Spectral Realm and return, fully recharged, and consider the strangeness of this world into which he had fallen.

Amanda's work continued, tirelessly, until she fell unconscious some time early in the morning before the other vampires turned in for the day. Then, for awhile, Raziel was bitterly alone in the underground cavern. News of the outside world came to them in the form of a newspaper. Once he had figured out how to read it, with Amanda's aid, it had at first greatly fascinated him.

Now, losing all interest, Raziel had an idea that this world was somehow greatly larger than his own. His own limitations would not let him think just exactly _how _big. So he sat, cross-legged in the armchair in the sitting room, watching Amanda curled up in the couch in one corner, her hand bent ever so slightly underneath her chin as though guarding her throat.

The other evening Amanda had told him that soon would be a time called "Thanksgiving", or something to that effect. Giving thanks for having been able to thrive seemed almost ironic... the hard part was being able to remain so. But he was still curious. Amanda insisted that normally Thanksgiving had nothing to do with the Indians at all. ("After all," she said, "having a big celebration after taking away their land, slaughtering their people, and enslaving them, it's the least we could do.") It mostly had to do with food, and being thankful for what you had. It was endearing, at least. 

Raziel wanted to see a Thanksgiving dinner for himself. Curiousity gripped him; what exactly did they eat? And what did turkeys look like? Did they look anything like pheasants or ptarmigans?

Amanda woke perhaps three hours before darkness fell. The fallen vampire asked her at once if it would be prudent to go outside and explore.

"Show me what these things are. I want to know," he insisted. "Besides, you're working too hard. You must be in great need of doing something else."

"I don't know," she murmured, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "Your disguises are a little awkward... it probably might be better if we went someplace with more people, maybe. Or less. I have no idea."

"Just take me somewhere where I can see what a Thanksgiving IS."

Amanda regarded him coolly. He seemed genuinely upset that she was being so difficult about it. Obviously she wasn't trusting him enough. But she didn't want anything terrible to happen that could cause them great disadvantage.

"Alright... Just... stay out of sight, mostly. I'll show you." She yawned, and turned to make her way into her living space and change. 

* * * * *

It was chillier now than it was before. Raziel found it refreshing to walk in the physical realm. Keeping in touch with real, tangible things made him realize there was still hope. Amanda moved on ahead, turning left and moving around the backyards of people. She felt foolish, because it was still broad daylight and that she knew lots of people in her neighborhood loved to keep dogs chained in their backyards. They approached the house carefully. Raziel was a lovely stalker, adept at moving without any sound at all, as he approached the kitchen window with her. 

She could smell the turkey. Apparently Raziel's senses were better, because he informed her of all sorts of things he could smell - by waving his hand in front of his nose and grinning with sharp teeth. 

She peered into the window first, slowly inching up to peek inside. She saw an oak table, covered with the usual cornucopia, which surprised her. A cornucopia had always represented plentiful bounty, but somehow many Americans neglected to include it in the dining set-up. She also saw the turkey, steaming and juicy, sitting on the table surrounded by potatoes, sweet potatoes, pies...

She uttered a squeak and dropped down, covering her throat again and swallowing heavily. She was half-starved and her mouth was watering so hard it made her eyes water, too. 

"I'm hungry," she mouthed desperately to poor Raziel, who understood. Without warning, he sped without sound across the back porch and opened the door, hearing no living footsteps inside at the moment.

"Raziel!" she breathed, scooting forward before stopping. She peered into the window again. No sign of Raziel. And then he came creeping like a theif in the night, picked up the tray of turkey, potatoes, and pie for good measure. And slipped away again, coming out shortly after and motioning for her to follow as he dashed for the trees.

They ran through the woods, her own voice unable to contain itself as she burst into laughter a safe distance away, dropping down onto the cold dry pine needles. "Oh my god... I can't believe you just did that! You cleaned them out!"

"I did what?" Raziel frowned, confused, but sat down to set out the stolen ensemble. Amanda, never quite one to deal with hunger intelligently, bent at once to the pie and started shoveling pieces into her mouth. There were two of them, apple and pumpkin, and thank god it wasn't spiced pumpkin because she couldn't stand that kind. 

"Thank you!" she bubbled, crumbs trickling from the corners of her mouth. She clasped her arms around his neck, holding tightly and laughing again. The whole scene seemed outrageously funny to her, and her laughter was quite contagious. It was good to see her so happy... he started to laugh, too.

After awhile she had eaten all of the apple pie, some of the pumpkin, and bits of turkey. She would have to walk all the way back to the caves, and end up with a belly ache besides. But she stretched out on the pine needles and stared up at the sky through the pine boughs. 

"This is what thanksgiving is... giving thanks for what you get, because normally, I would have to steal that myself. No, just kidding! Ahh... now I feel bad... those poor people!" Amanda giggled again sleepily, yawned, and turned her head to look at him. "I don't think they'll miss the turkey, hm?"

Raziel smirked back at her and shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head no. "I think I understand." 

"How did you know what house to look for?"

The vampire huddled into a ball, his long legs drawn up to his chest as he stared through the trees, eyes glazed in memory. "I remember... long, elaborate feasts during my vampire days. It was a mock-feast, of course... every year. There was wild fowl of every kind, apples, anything that still thrived where there was sunlight. The strongest of us would venture out and get them, or get humans to do it for us under pain of death.

"We captured humans and brought them to the table, all littered with a feast fit for kings. We sat up with our lord Kain and watched them feed, terrified of our presence but too starved to care." Raziel laughed bitterly. "My brothers would sometimes play music for them, cheerful and annoying tunes that must have driven the mortals batty. But somehow or another, it was fun."

"What happened when they were done?" Amanda rolled over to watch him and gave a little swallow of nervousness. Vampire lords? She never heard any of these things from him before.

"We let most of them go. Those that refused to eat, Kain crucified them himself and hung their bodies from the turrets with the flags and let them hang there." 

"Ew. How inconvenient. Why'd you have the feasts...?"

"In some way or another...to...remind the humans who 'allowed' them to live." Raziel found himself sneering. It was not out of hatred of humans, but of the slow loathing that grew for his brethren. He was glad he had killed them. 

"I think it's time to go back," he whispered, standing up. "I suppose we should dispose of these?"

"No. They're still good if we can manage to steal a fridge to keep them cold and good."

"I don't think we should steal anything else today."


	11. Tears by Moonlight

Author's Note: Yes, this is just a random chapter I wanted to write...because I found an old chapter I printed out somewhere, and I thought, 'hey, I remember this story!' so I wanted to hurry up and write a quick one. The last time I started this chapter, it turned out really dark, depressing and angsty. Well...this chapter did, too, but it was a happy-bittersweet-fluffy-hugging chapter.

-----------------------------

Christmas came like a miracle out of the blue. Raziel was slowly getting used to Amanda's mispronunciation of his name. Since a couple of weeks ago, his name had become "Razzle" instead of "Raziel", because of how fast she had gotten used to speaking it. Now she spoke it too fast - and so the name was like a ray of light in his eye that he couldn't get away from.

The holiday was also a new thing. But to be honest, he saw little difference between this holiday and the ones they held in Nosgoth's darkest sanctuaries. Where there had been humans and cheerful celebration, there were vampires in humongous marble halls with bubbling vats of still-warm blood and great meals so unusual, nobody ate them. The trays just sat on the tables like forgotten ornaments.

Raziel didn't quite understand gifts, either. Amanda closed her eyes, rolling onto her back and flopping like a useless fish on the floor.

"No... You just give the other person a gift, wrapped in the paper. You don't have to keep the paper, it's just for show. I always hear 'it's the thought that counts!', but... I don't know. Sometimes I got really crappy gifts."

Raziel, sprawled on a rather comfortable chair, seated sideways with his legs hanging over the edge, glanced over, anxious and annoyed that she was so impatient. "Is it another family holiday, where everyone comes together and enjoys each other's company?"

"Yeah. Well... not at my house... Mom doesn't like Christmas." She didn't smile, and she was not sad. It was a fact of life for her that they never really celebrated Saint Nick's holiday together, but rather she went out with friends of the Mental Health Association. They were all very friendly people, not just the employees. It made her feel good to know that she didn't have more problems than she did.

Raziel watched her as she stared at the ceiling, tucking her hands behind her head in a slightly boyish fashion. She was not one to act as he was accustomed to. But by this time, he was accustomed to her earthly mannerisms. She went on, without waiting for his questions.

"Anyway... my gift to you was making your life easier, by having you be able to regenerate your body back to its normal state through eating souls. And... uh, yeah. I haven't been able to get you much else. Except call up some witches and sorcerers around the world and get really good advice. Next thing I'm going to need is a freakin' computer because I can't stand talking on the phone."

She jumped up suddenly, turning to face the door where the vampires slipped into the room, silent as ghosts. Their fearless leader, Darius, entered with a dramatic flair, presenting a box in his pale palm, about the size of a cell phone. The twins and Kafele were there. Kafele held a small kitten in her arms, with eyes as red as blood. It was probably blood-bonded, fated to go mad before it reached maturity.

Amanda knew so much about vampirism now, she was insanely depressed that the kitten would go crazy. She loved cats. Suddenly her throat tightened, and longing for the company of her own cat, she closed her eyes and swallowed. She took the box blindly from Darius's hands. "What is this...?"

"Just open it, child." Darius leaned against the female vampire, who enjoyed her kitten's attention by letting it hook her fingers with its deadly, hard little claws.

Amanda did so, peeling back the package's paper and sliding the box top off. The sight of green was also something she missed. There were probably one-hundred hundred-dollar bills in that box, all of them packed tightly together and wrapped with an elastic non-sticky band.

"This is a humongo wad of cash, dude," was all Amanda could come up with. Then she cleared her throat. "What to do with it, huh?"

"Get yourself that computer, my good lady. Perhaps you can get some respectable clothing for you and your friend, so we don't look like Halloween so much, eh?"

Darius chuckled afterward, moving like a ghost across the floor to their makeshift Christmas tree. It was adorned with mostly red electric lights, giving it more of a hellish example of Dante's Christmas in Hell. But there were trinkets and things... odd bits and bobbits, antiques that Amanda had trouble identifying their time-period.

Amanda couldn't resist looking longingly at Raziel. She had been aching to get him to a clothing store for ages. Not because he looked _bad, _ per se, but just that she would have loved to see him in something a normal guy would wear. He met her gaze with a slight tilt of the head, catching the electricity of her excitement.

"We'll go tonight. I mean... surely I'm not going out just to buy myself stuff. I don't need much." She reached out, snaking her fingers through her shortened hair. She then reached out to grab Raziel's hand and pull on it, hard, her soft fingerpads scraping a little on his wicked claws. "Get...up!"

Raziel, who wasn't much for simple outings, just growled and closed his eyes. "Must I?"

"Yes. Get up. And I even know where we can go, too. It'll just take us awhile. In fact... pack your stuff. We'd better go." Suddenly dropping his arm, she turned to Darius, eyes flashing with resolve. "That's it. I'm tired of calling up strangers on the phone. I've been here too long. I don't want to sit on my ass anymore... plus, I'd like to go home and see my mom again for once in my life, before I get old."

Raziel sat up slowly, watching her scamper away into the darkened halls of their underground home. It was amazing to see her so energetic suddenly, so late at night. But then again, her sleeping habits required her to stay up with the vampires. Her research went well at night, too, because while it was midnight in New York, it would be midday on the other side of the world.

In less than fifteen minutes, Amanda was out and about with Raziel at her back, wearing a thick, heavy parka, two layers of pants and a couple of hats.. with big, poofy gloves. She carried a bag over her shoulder, a single-strap pack that carried a couple spellbooks and a good deal of components. It was easier this way... it looked normal to see a teenager carrying a back rather than nothing. It would certainly draw less attention.

She looked over her shoulders, seeing her breath... and stared at the moon rising. Her throat caught to see a clear night sky, so late in winter. Usually it was clouds, clouds, and dreariness throughout. But the moon was coming higher and higher, turning the trees blacker and the snow more blue. And the way it gleamed off of Raziel's translucent flesh, and his eyes burning, focused as he gazed at the snowy tracks before him...

"What're you thinking?"

He looked up, blinking his glowing eyes at her. "I am lost here, aren't I?"

She shook her head. "We've been through this. No, you're not lost... if you say you can travel through time, then there's definately a way I can get you back to where you need to go, even if it's another world completely." She stepped over a fallen pine, reaching down to balance herself, sliding over the snow and stepping into a rather deep snowdrift on the other side.

Ignoring her dilemma, she began pulling herself out of it, grunting in between words. "You've... got to keep up hope. Just yesterday -- ugh! -- I talked to a woman who said that she knows of a 'time machine' that sort of sounds like yours. I know where she lives and everything."

Raziel stood next to her, on a shallower patch of snow. He offered his arm, clad in a nice winter jacket, black and red, and she seized it tightly. He pulled her up and out, and set her down in front of him. But as she came down, her boot slipped on a thick branch from the same fallen tree and she inevitably staggered into his body.

In her heart, in her mind, she felt an ache of remorse during that second when she truly believed he would let her fall face-first into the ground. It was as though every part of her anger and short-tempered mask melted away and she wanted to weep, knowing so few people in the world would care enough to make a studied effort to catch her.

He caught her like magic.

She was hanging off of his shoulders, one arm crooked around his neck, and he was crouching slightly, as if to put himself in her reach, and his arms were around her, holding tightly, bringing his claws under her arms and lifting her up. He peered down, curious, becoming enthralled by the look of her eyes, still blinking at some inner turmoil he couldn't identify.

He realized again they were outside. It was cold. But being outside, Amanda was free to remember how much the world hurt her with its war and its suffering and misery. She was so sensitive to that sort of thing... it hurt. Shutting everything else out. Everyone. Her mother. Her tears started spilling without warning, and flooding her body was a sinking despair that could have dragged Raziel down as the strength left her legs. Her heart started pounding in her ears, and the pain was mixed with the relief that Raziel caught her. Someone alien and strange and beautiful, even in his most dilapidated form, could care so much and yet know so little about her.

But he wasn't a human being. This fact, though, did not mean he didn't understand on some level.

She straightened after awhile, choking down her crying until she let herself sob a few times. A chilling goodness coursed through her veins then. She looked up, tired and weary, into his face. They were moving a little bit. Raziel held her close and swayed back and forth very slightly, standing straight and bringing his right hand to her hat, brushing over it a little.

It felt... good. He felt himself grow fond of this moment, which was bizarre in his existence where time meant so little to him, he that jumped back and forth through time, spanning centuries and feeling all the time a growing hatred fused with loneliness and rage. Her eyes spoke so much of his story that it scared him. This moment was dripping with insight, and an emotion he felt growing like a solid weight in his chest that he didn't really mind, actually.

Amanda spoke up softly, her voice thin and wane, threading its way into his ears. "I'm a klutz, huh?"

The vampire lieutenant smiled. "A graceful one. Are you alright now?"

"Yes," she sighed, ending with a non-sensical grumble of disgust. "I'm so sick of crying. I shouldn't cry so much. Mom tells me I'm too empathetic... I let so much bother me and I need to control myself sometimes."

He slowly let his arms release her as she stole away from him. She took her gloves off if only to rub at her eyes. "It's way too cold to be cryin' right now, anyway. Freeze my tears to my face, and then I'd certainly be a sight to see, huh?"

He nodded, distressed to have her leave his arms so soon. And confused as to why he felt about it that way.

His chest ached again. It pinched, disturbed by the sensation burning itself against his heart. He swallowed, a burning realization that such a disturbance was slowly awakening the Soul Reaver. Confused, it touched upon the emotion and withdrew in alarm, twisting itself inside of him as if recoiling from the ambient noise of it. He pressed his claw against his chest, feeling a tingling in his arm. It would emerge again, regardless of his command.

It was just a matter, as it ever was, of time.


	12. Witch Woman

Author's Notes: This is taking me awhile to figure out. As the events of things goes, I had to do some heavy research into the game again, rehash old conversations simply because I felt like it. That meant reading over Scripts and things.. I've been looking for a Soul Reaver 1 script.. but alas...

Yet _another _vampire graces these sweet Digital Pages that I have woven for your reading content. Breathe not a word of this to others, though... something tells me it'll be a surpriiise!

-----------------------------

_This has been an interesting walk. But however long it may be, I find myself intrigued by the simple beauty of this wintry forest. Amanda seems capable enough, without falling into drifts of snow every once in awhile. _Raziel watched her bound forth, clumsily on her human feet, but trying her hardest to be as graceful as any vampire in the world.

She took her time wisely when she needed to. Finally, when the journey seemed to be wearing his patience thin, they reached an old house on the edge of what appeared to be a driveway. It was unshoveled, but there was a warm light emanating from within the low sitting cottage.

Raziel hesitated. This was his first meeting with a human other than the young girl, Amanda. He folded his arms over his chest, greatly hesitant and was not forthcoming when it came to following her. Amanda paused, almost at the door when she turned. Her eyes glittered slightly as she spoke.

"Are you afraid? She isn't going to steal your soul. That's really more your market, Razzle. C'mon, I know her, her name's Petra and she's really nice. I buy most of my components from her."

After a moment more of deliberate thought, he nodded and silently met her at the door. She raised her hand, knocking in an obvious pattern. The stealth felt right to Raziel - if this woman had any knowledge, then what better way to protect oneself than to live in an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere?

The door opened slightly, barred to a few inches by a sturdy length of chain. She peered from a cloak, which was highly unusual attire for a human of this realm. She narrowed her eyes, sparkling as her gaze came into contact with the dark towering vision of Raziel. Then she looked down at Amanda, who was nervously fiddling with her parka zipper.

"What do you want?" Petra whispered, huddling closer to the door.

"I called you earlier. I told you I would be coming," Amanda said, as if doubting the experience. "But you shouldn't be afraid of this man. He's Raziel. I'm helping him find his way." And after a pause, "I can't do it alone."

"Lost his way, hm? Come in." She rattled the chain and admitted them entrance. Raziel slowly followed his companion, alarmed at the amount of books lining the walls of this hallowed tomb. He brushed dust with his claws from a nearby shelf, exposing old, darkened wood.

_There was a fire, _he thought privately. _And what a sad waste of knowlede it would have been, had it taken the pages of these books into its fiery maw._

"I can see that you've been traveling for a very long time, stranger," Petra interrupted, seating herself at a long, wooden desk covered with candles and objects. There was an arcane symbol etched in the wood in front of her. Upon closer inspecton, Raziel realized it was glowing blue.

"What do you know of me?" Raziel demanded, at once assuming the arrogant, careful role of the pursued.

Amanda stood away and watched, her face turning red as the heat of this place, seemingly coming from nowhere at all, bubbled into her chilled face. She shook the snow off where she stood, and watched it melt away beneath the floorboards.

Petra pushed her hood back slowly. "Nothing, nothing. Just a crazy woman rambling. Now, my child, my lovely Amanda, what can I do for you? Certainly this is no ordinary visit for pricy spell ingredients, yes?"

"I need help figuring out how to get him back to his own...ah, place. He's really not from around here at all," Amanda replied, walking closer and investigating the various pots and things on a wide array of shelves to the left of the desk and Petra. Turning, she faced her. "Don't ask too many questions. I can't speak for Raziel. Only he can tell what you'd need to know."

"Raziel, is it? Very well." The woman stood up. And stepping into more light, Raziel gasped harshly, and something of a horror stole over him. For the woman's face was devestatingly familiar. The stark reality of her features gave Raziel cause for stunned silence.

_Ariel...?_

Petra - no, Ariel - turned to Raziel and smiled at him softly. There was no cruelty, only the bittersweet despair that a familiar ghost carried. Her aura spoke volumes of the kind of suffering only the dead can know. Could it be that the Guardian of Balance, slain, who had haunted the Pillars for so long, was in some way reborn to another life?

_No, it can't be._

"Is there something on your mind?" Petra purred quietly, turning away as though shy.

Raziel forced his tongue to work. "Nothing. Nothing at all. But, please, tell me. How is it that I can return to my homeland? It is vastly important I return."

The witch-woman was all too glad to point him in the right direction. "See those books there? No, one shelf higher. Yes... You may find some answers there. I see in your face you've got a number of questions."

With that information, Raziel was left to look as he pleased. He removed the first text, which nearly fell apart in dust but somehow managed to stay intact long enough for Raziel to find a flat surface, and thumb carefully through the withered pages.

He was loathe to read the language written here. He only understood the modern tongue, for as old as Amanda's written language was, it was more difficult to read an even younger version of it. So instead he moved slowly through the book, until he came to a depiction. Recognition bit with an iron grasp in his soul as the blazing image penetrated his vision.

The Reaver lay, portrayed so familiarly in its reverent state, upheld in a circle of light that brought painful memories of hidden, crumbling murals scattered across Nosgoth, hinting at secrets only the deceiving manipulators could tell him but were as yet not forthcoming.

More pages revealed the Reaver. Finally, he attempted to read some of the text which only described something called the Excalibur. But the resemblance of its image was far too much of a coincidence. Certainly no sword on this earth was curved as the Reaver.

He chose another book. This time it was fully illustrated, and huge, with large artistic drawings of angels descending from the heavens. There was a full-color image of what may have been a much larger painting, depicting Heaven and Hell in the same sequence, with naked mortals either writhing in agony or joyous in blissful ecstacy. He flipped the page again.

Janos Audron. Raziel felt his heart burn with sadness at the fate he had suffered at the hands of himself. He fought bitterly with his own self-loathing. But he had satisfied that bloody revenge by slaughtering that Sarafan Raziel, that... _bastard _for what he had done. He knew that one of the many things on his list of things to accomplish was return Janos's heart, which lie hidden somewhere in the Sarafan Stronghold.

Oddly, he found his fingers caressing the depiction. _Michael, _he thought as he read the word. _How interesting. _

Petra was handing Amanda some things. Last of all were a pair of airline tickets. Amanda blinked at them, and seeing the destination, her eyes widened. "Where the hell did you get these?"

Petra raised a finger. "Ah... the quickest way to end a miracle is to ask what it is... or where it came from."

"Tell me, woman," Raziel said softly. "Do you know of the sword... In my world, they call it the Reaver."

Petra raised her eyes to him. Her focus seemed to intensify as she regarded him with chilling recognition. Finally she walked closer and she took his arm - the arm that was the conduit for the Reaver's power. She stroked his palm softly, speaking as she did, ignoring his sudden urge to recoil. "I know of it. Its stories are older than all of us... I, too, have come a long way from home... why do you suppose such knowledge of the Egyptian teleporter belongs to me?"

"You reek of wisdom beyond any mortal reckoning... but I suppose that comes with being a witch. You must have many stories to tell..."

"But there's no time to spin any yarns now, is there? You have to go home, stranger. There are entities in this world that are called to your existence that would see you destroyed... at the very least, they would cause you great aggravation."

She released his arm. She pulled her hood forward again and turned away, facing Amanda, who was watching intensely, strangely jealous of the contact Petra casually made with the soul-devourer.

"Those tickets can be used at Plattsburgh airport. You will take a twin-engine plane to Boston, where a larger craft will bear you across to Egypt. Take the books and components I've given to you. Practice your spells carefully on your trip and you may yet find a way to bear your friend home again."

Raziel walked to Amanda, who tucked her tickets safely away. He took her hand and she squeezed back, unafraid, and obviously not bothered by his sharp talons. She thanked Petra, who nodded in turn and sat at the desk again, poring over her symbols. This time, she didn't look up again.

On the way out, the snow crunched anew and somehow clouds had wandered across the sky, and deposited lazy white light, spiraling into the white masses below. Standing ahead of us, silhouetted against the dark gnarled pine trees, heavy with white snow, a vampire waited for us. With a familiar flick of his wrist, he motioned for us to follow.

"I only overheard that you're to go to Plattsburgh. I've got a truck waiting just down this road." The vampire Darius turned without further adieu while the pair followed, not at all surprised that he had the gall to somehow follow them here.


	13. Encounter with Kin

Author's Notes: This is going to be a funky chapter. All the ideas I had for chapter 12 are going to end up spread out over the course of two more chapters, I think. But it'll keep you readers intensely interested, I hope! (PS: I Can't believe I wrote DORIAN instead of Darius! That was rather stupid of me... but anyway, I fixed that mistake so you don't get awfully confused.)

Raziel: Why do I have to have another dream about Kain? Whines  
Me: You shush. You know you like it!  
Raziel: mumbles  
Kain: Sweatdrop ...Uhh...

----------------------------------------

Amanda watched Raziel's face as he looked out the passenger side. They both opted to sit in the back together, while Darius calmly directed them to Plattsburgh. It was a long distance, but they would make it in time before the terrible sunrise. But that was Darius's problem, which he would take care of on his own.

She peered back at her book. But again she was distracted by how the lights ignited his young, pale face, decaying slightly from his lack of souls. He would feed before they got on the plane, Amanda would make sure he did it. Or maybe he would take care of that problem himself. Every light they passed, his face brightened and darkened, accentuating the sharp chiseled features he carried. He looked over; she jumped and looked down at her book again, trying to read the lines of chant without actually speaking them.

She finally closed it, stuffing it into her bag with the others. She rubbed her eyes and leaned back. _I summoned him. But I wasn't summoning anything specific. I had no idea what was to come of it... it was my first serious spell ever._

_I got so tired of being alone. I got tired of guys looking at me once and then turning to chat away with their 'perfect' teenage dream girls while I was left to read my fantasy novels, aching inside and destroying the pain with some good old fashioned adventure reading._

_But after awhile that doesn't work anymore. I can't enjoy my books, I can't write. I can't see anything clearly beyond my own pain. I wanted to hurt things and myself, most of all. What was I doing wrong? What would it take to be accepted into their world? Even just to have a friend... _

Her eyes glittered before she quickly wiped them, putting it off as just being tired. She slumped down, holding her heavy bag in her lap. _ At first I thought he was so creepy... and, sorry to say, but extremely disgusting if not a little cool looking with the whole undead look. Now, it's as if I can't stop looking at him. All this trouble, just to lose the one man in the whole universe who may care about me... but all he cares about is... is revenge. Getting back at this Kain guy._

_He's going to leave me. I can't keep him._

She was suddenly angry. Amanda couldn't help it. She saw her fingers curl into balled fists of repressed rage and squeezed her eyes shut. Trembling, she took a few steadying breaths and turned away from Raziel, looking out her window at the snow drifting steadily as the car passed by in the midnight highway. Disappointment and hatred came together in her heart and boiled there, determined to cook and stew until it would poison her.

They arrived at the airport, startling Amanda out of her angry thoughts. She took off from the car first, leaving Raziel alone to figure out the means of opening the door. He stood up, stretching, and cracking his back by turning sharply one way, then the other. He watched her as she stood in the light of the airport, open all day.

"I will wait here, in case trouble comes calling that neither of you can handle by yourselves," Darius spoke, waving his hand at him. His eyes glowed with the vampire's shine, giving him a feral, animalistic look to his otherwise aristocratic features.

"Thank you, Darius," Raziel whispered, reaching for his hand. He shook it. "For everything. I must repay you for all you've done."

"I don't need anything from you. It was your strange powers that scared me into it, remember. If it weren't for my soul..."

"Speak no more. You don't want to vex me, do you?" Raziel interrupted, raising a claw. He chuckled, and for a moment, Darius shared in his amusement.

"Not if I value my soul, friend. And... Lord Raziel, one last thing... make sure you look after her while you're here. There's no telling what sort of dangers lie ahead in wherever you're going."

Raziel agreed with a curt nod. He walked around the steaming engine of the truck, whose heat rolled away into the wintry sky like the dark monsters of the Spectral Realm. He hungered for souls, but there were none within his immediate sight. But the Reaver was stirring nevertheless, and hungered with almost equal savagery for what souls it can draw into itself.

He continued toward Amanda. She held the tickets, reading them, nodding her head. "We take off in about 45 minutes. Wow. Uhh... that Petra really knows her stuff. She knew I was coming, AND she magically conjured up tickets to get us on the plane with reasonable time to spare." She snorted. "Sometimes she really scares me."

"She scares you because she has power," Raziel replied calmly, plopping down comfortably in a patch of dry snow. He flicked his black hair back behind his pointed ear. "Power that allows her to have some control over you. You mustn't let her frighten you. The trick is to pretend not to let her power bother you, but at the same time prove that you can get along just fine without them manipulating your puppet strings."

"And suddenly you're an expert on all of this?"

"I know more than you," Raziel snapped, giving her a cold disapproving stare. "I know so much about manipulation."

"Having practiced it yourself, no doubt!"

The vampire tensed. Why was she attacking him? "No. From being the victim of lies. My whole existence has been a lie. A bleeding scab only to be torn away to let the bloody truth flow and infuriate me. Forever thinking to be one thing, but in the cold reality being something else entirely. I know not what I am."

He paused, staring at her as she picked at a string sticking out of her bag. She avoided his gaze, and he continued, in a softer tone of voice.

"What is bothering you so?"

Amanda shrugged. Her brow was furrowed, in such a way that made her look... angry. Hurt. She finally reached down with her teeth, tearing at the string and snapping it loose and twining it about her index finger. "Don't ask me anything else. Let's just wait."

Raziel bristled, but turned his head away. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and felt the cold winter wind touch his face and then breeze by, wrapping the airport vestibule in a chilling vampire embrace, draining it of warmth, before moving on into the night.

Darius walked from his car in the parking lot through the darkness. There was a car waiting in the shadows just beyond the fence along the road. He approached it cautiously, each step deliberate as he considered the pros and cons of the coming encounter. The vampire sidled up to the car and turned away as he had been instructed. The window rolled down slowly.

A voice permeated from within, like the sound of dry, worn skin passing over well-worn wood. It gave him chills, excited and scared the vampire to his very bones. For this was the voice of his Sire, his father in the Blood who he alone answered to.

"My son, turn and look at me now. For I have much to tell you and so little time."

"Anything, Lord," Darius whispered as he turned, exhiliration flowing in his veins at the proximity of the Sire. "Tell me what I can do."

"Come inside. It's freezing."

He did so. He slid into the seat, seeing much in the dark. His Sire's eyes gleamed like cold fire in the shadows. But that was enough. He heard the window roll up again and as he settled in, he felt the weight of the older vampire's hand settle softly on his thigh. "It's been a long time... I am pleased to have kept in close contact with you, however. Where are they destined?"

"Egypt. I'm not sure where... but to follow them will be a simple matter." Darius gasped softly, feeling his master draw close, his chill breath against his ear.

"Yes... simple... but you have done enough... let me do the honor now." His hand tightened on his child's thigh, close to his hip, making the younger vampire tense and whine slightly. There came a low, rasping chuckle. "It has been a long time since ever I traveled across the sea..."


	14. Bloodright

Author's Notes: Okay... so I promised one chapter, but instead gave you like, three or four! At least they're coming out pretty fast, one after another. I'm determined to write something, even if it isn't what most people want to read. And hey! For once, I'm having fun while I write! So enjoy! Comments are appreciated. I do not own Raziel, but I happen to live in the town where he ends up in..so..yeah... but I ain't telling!! Anyway... don't ask me why my rendition of boarding a plane is such crap. I've only done it once in my life and at that time, I was in a stupefied daze.

---------------------

The trip to Boston took all but a few minutes. Raziel sat in the noisy plane with a grimace of agony on his face. The sound of the engines so close to his sensitive ears made his hands jump up to cover them. But Boston came quickly, and once he stepped into the building alongside Amanda, who clutched the tickets in her hand, hidden in her jacket. He gasped at the sheer volume of the airport, which was nothing compared to some of the larger junctions in the United States. Still, the place captured his admiration for its sheer size. It reminded him of the huge cathedrals that he had walked through, their ceilings lost in the shadows above.

Amanda had trouble figuring out where exactly their door was to get to the next plane. The crafts outside, like silent dragon statues, moved slowly toward their stations guided by barely visible lines of white on the empty concrete and blacktop snowscape. She read the tickets quietly, then looked up, taking a sharp turn and leaving Raziel completely alone in a group of college students who just happened to begin noticing his pale skin.

"Hey, man, don't you know it's Christmas?"

"I-I'm perfectly aware," Raziel stammered, backing away before turning, hurrying after Amanda, who stood now at the desk.

Amanda very suddenly went pale. Her eyes darted nervously to Raziel, opening her mouth to speak but then the man behind the counter was already speaking. "Two to Egypt? This is your guardian for the trip?"

Raziel nodded, quickly speaking. "Yes. I will look after her on her journey. There is no need to fear."

The employee stared dubiously for several moments. Then he smiled and nodded. "Alright then. Here you go, enjoy your trip."

They recieved their ticket seat stubs, and walked through a long tunnel that eventually opened into a humongous air liner. She didn't have a large bag, so she stuck it up in the baggage compartment before sliding into the seat. Raziel slipped past her and then lowered himself into the windowseat, gazing out the window.

_She's still not speaking to me. Very well. I know this trip will be long, so I may as well get some... 'shut-eye'._

The plane glided onto the runway. And suddenly he was thrown back into his seat, neatly startling the Reaver out of him to be perfectly honest, with Amanda leaning over him, struggling to fit the seatbelt over his lap as he had neglected to put it on. She cursed at him rather colorfully, until the thing was on. He gulped a little, narrowing his eyes out the window and refusing to meet her somewhat amused stare.

"It's alright," she said quietly against his side. "Just remember to put those things on when we're taking off and landing. I'll let you know when you can take it off again." That said, she leaned back in her seat with a grimace of discomfort, and began flipping through one of Petra's leather-bound, aged texts.

-=-=-=-=-=-

_The smoke-choked fog of Nosgoth wrapped Kain's stronghold like a dirty blanket as true night fell. The great doors of the entry hall burst open and Lieutenant Raziel came striding through them, his eyes piercing the torch-lit shadows as he sought a subject to vent his rage upon. His footsteps cracked the silence like lightning as the flames fluttered at the speed of his long steps._

_The throne room opened to him before he reached it. He strode into the center, facing his Lord and dropping onto his knee with a flourish of his clan banner. _

_"My Lord Kain! Why is it you must send me on these senseless missions of murder?! Needless bloodletting is not by any means in my nature!"_

_Kain sat as stolidly as any immortal tyrant, gazing with vague disinterest in his Lieutenant's dilemma. The Reaver lay across his lap, and he stroked it idly as he considered the things that Raziel was to endure. He rose finally, and brought the Reaver with him. And for several long, painful seconds, Raziel felt a quiver of terror rippling through him as he saw Kain approach him with the slow, deliberate steps of a manically patient lover... or a killer._

_Raziel remained on his knees, Kain's loyal slave and servant, subject to whatever the vampire lord desired. It was not his place to question; surely he would see him punished. The Reaver would be the tool this time. Had he somehow gone too far?_

_He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips met the cold metal of the Reaver instead. "Shh," Kain interrupted soothingly, bending down - yes, down! - to his level. He reached out, pulling his face close with his right hand, the other manuevering the sword's point into the floor where he leaned on it. "Tell me of your suffering, then. You needn't fear. Tell me... everything."_

_He was inches from his eyes. They shined with his cunning, his genius. Nothing could stand in Kain's way. Raziel was captivated, his limbs melting into submission as the vampire lord took him into his arms and lifted him up again. He very dimly heard Kain speaking. "Come."_

_He followed him through another door leading away into the east. They passed into a wide corridor, the walls lined with sconces that flickered and leapt with deadly fire. He had a hard time following Kain, as he moved so fast as to lose sight of him as they turned at a break in the corridor. Jarring himself to catch up, he literally jogged to keep up. Finally there was a door. Kain stood before it, arms crossed with the Reaver pointed at an angle toward the floor._

_"Promise me," the vampire lord began, "that you will not speak a word to your brothers of what shall occur in this room."_

_Not 'what may'. Not 'what could'. But 'what shall be'. Raziel nodded wordlessly, as speechless and afraid as ever. And that's just what Kain wanted to see. His smile was wicked, like the teeth of a devil, sharp, white and full of poison._

_The heavy door was pushed open. Inside, it was cool and a single window opened into the chilled Autumn evening air. It was unfamiliar, as no immortal but Kain and his human servants ever stepped into this room. Oftentimes, no mortal stepped back out. Dark red tapestries swept elegantly from the ceiling, and a wall-mirror made of one solid sheet of furnished metal hung from the north wall. Against the south wall there was a canopy bed, with transparent veils of black falling from it. The whole room created a sensual vibe that Raziel couldn't ignore._

_"Tell me," Kain interrupted him, standing next to him after hiding the Reaver. "Do you not enjoy the power you wield over your enemies? The principal of life and death lies in your very grasp and you do not even pretend to relish in your supremacy?"_

_His disbelief was almost... mocking. Raziel shook his head, thinking fast, and answered the only best way he thought best. "I know no other lordship that is higher than yours."_

_"You didn't answer my question. Or, perhaps, you think that because you are not in 'my' position, there is no cause to exalt in your honorable position?" Kain once again managed to invade his personal space. Raziel minded it little, but as the conversation progressed he liked it less and less._

_The vampire lieutenant stole a breath of dead air and turned toward him, meeting Kain's eyes as he pressed close and peered over his shoulder at his face. "I do not percieve slaughtering innocent women and children as honorable, my liege."_

_"Ah... so there you are," he whispered knowingly. "You are an... evangelist for mankind. I suppose you feel pity for every slanderous soldier you fall in the field of battle, too?"_

_"That village had none to defend them and you know it! I hated every second of it, watching them burn like... like--"_

_"Cattle." Kain peeled away from him and strode confidently to the window, by which stood a curtained off corner of the room. "My child... you must understand the weight of our plight. For such as the likes of you has not been seen for centuries, and your very existence is... a phenomenal milestone in the history of Nosgoth."_

_"What are you saying?" Raziel demanded quietly, watching Kain pace back and forth, slowly wound up in the light of his ideas. "I don't understand."_

_"Of course not!" Kain laughed at him, stopping to brush his claws over his hair for some reason, pulling it back tighter in a knot of pony tail at the back of his head. "You're an original construct in the fabric of time itself. Something... new." Then he came forward, his eyes suddenly blazing with an immeasurable hunger. Raziel tried to twist away but Kain had him again, and that same terrifying fear gripped him as Kain closed his teeth on his throat._

_"Ah...!" His body melted._

_His Blood was fire._

_And he wanted to end this dream now. Nothing more than to wake up to something familiar, something he was sure of. Not this terrifying exhilirating fantasy that was crafted from his undead mind. Was he mad!? Why was Kain holding him like this? When he could not awaken, he opened his eyes again and fought, snarling, only to feel his teeth penetrate again with a vengeance and he felt the fire in him, consuming him with a feral, primitive hunger. This fire, this need... Raziel began to crave it._

_He clung like a limp puppet in Kain's dark, hot embrace of bloodlust. He felt the vampire lord's tongue against his skin like rough, wet paper, licking away at the remnants of his vitality, never draining him completely. It made his innards squirm and his lips part in a quiet moan of distress._

_"Even your very essence tastes like power..." Kain murmured appreciatively, breathlessly. Stroking his locks of midnight black and kissing his forehead. "My blessing... my angel of darkness..."_

_Fading..._

_....darkness..._

_Black._

_------------------------_

Author's Notse: So... as stated before, I had to include more Kain vampirism. To explain: I believe that Kain kept his power by drinking from all of his sons, particularly Raziel to an enormous degree, as his blood was the most powerful. (Being Firstborn, he probably took a lot of energy to create... as creating vampires from corpses takes lots of time and energy, I would imagine.) And...basically...yeah. And plus Kain's foresight of what is to come in the future. It gives me reason to assume that Kain favored Raziel in more ways than just his 'advantages' to have him as an ally. Raziel was a good enemy for as long as Kain needed him to be.

Also, I figured the blood drinking would relate more to Blood Omen 1 and 2... the way Kain could absorb abilities by fully draining his vampire victims. But here, he's just getting a cheap high off of Raziel's vitality.

So...that's my reasoning! Winks


	15. Egyption Coven

Author's Notes: Okies... the chapter that will decide all. Be honest in your reviews.

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Raziel opened his eyes to a world of muted sunlight that reminded him of Nosgoth so much that he swore that he had awoken in his stronghold chambers, exhausted and nearly bloodless. He felt a warm hand touch his and gently shaking him.

"...zle. Razzle, wake up."

She was there next to him, and fragments of memory came painfully together. He opened his eyes, which glowed and she covered them quickly, whispering to him, "Jesus! What kind of dream did you have? Your eyes are like fire..."

She finally removed her hands once the bustle of other passengers washed by them. He blinked against the light spilling in through the window at his left. She stood up and stretched, before gathering her things. A blast of desert heat smacked Amanda in the face and she quickly removed her jacket, beads of sweat jumping up on her brow. She swiped a hand through her hair. The airport was small, but as she looked around she chanced upon seeing a small tourist shop that included T-shirts and capri pants.

"I'll just take a minute. No peaking, eh?" she said, winking at the confounded Raziel.

She changed in the ladies bathroom. Emerging, she wore a tee-shirt and capris, with the pant legs rolled up just a little more with her outrageously huge sneakers. Having looked at herself in the mirror, she thought she looked like a role-playing game poster child, with her wild short hair tossed in every direction, her sleeves rolled up and her T-shirt tied off at the side to make it tighter around her hips. She carried her bag, having dumped her winter clothes the garbage.

"They would only get in the way," she answered before he could ask. "Besides... somehow I think... I won't be going home." Her eyes became jaded now. And for once, Raziel felt a prick of regret.

_All of this for me. She has no regrets, though. She would never have come this far._

They strode toward the edges of the building and stepped out into the rising Egyptian sun. It was already ten in the morning and soon there would be more people than ever before. Raziel remained close at her side, his eyes ever darting all over the place. Egypt certainly was a desolate place.

-=-=-=-=-=-

They took a taxi to the Nile. It was only a few minutes away... and as they mounted a rocky crevasse, Raziel sucked in a breath of air as he saw the green pastures and the flowing blue snake that twisted its way among buildings like that of Boston, only fewer and far in between.

Amanda was just as awestruck. She'd never even been to Egypt before. She swallowed and held her breath, because it dawned on her that she really 'was' here. People with robes and turbans actually walked the streets, and occasionally a man with jeans and a t-shirt strode past their slow-moving car.

"Pull up. Stop here!" she blurted to the driver.

She opened the door and stumbled out, gasping for air. Raziel knelt behind her, his hand resting against her back. "What is it?"

"Just... too much. I didn't even sleep one bit. So tired..." She leaned toward him, and he took her under his arm and pressed her close. He could feel the exhaustion in her the way her body quaked as she forced her muscles to do her bidding.

He led her through the alley ways of the lesser village. The sun rose higher in the sky, until even he could feel the tingling heat in the air. Amanda followed along with his guidance until she stopped and turned sharply, pulling out of his arms. She knocked on a door, hidden under a sloping roof of rust-eaten metal. She leaned a little against the wall, until the door opened. A smiling young boy stood there, turned and called in a foreign tongue to his mother.

It turned out that Amanda, by some whisper of Fate, was bound to come here. Part of her exhausted body was rooted to her magic, and if her will wasn't strong her magic worked miracles of its own accord. The mother had three children, two daughters and one son, her youngest. She gladly accepted Amanda into her home, casting wary glances at the imposing vampiric figure behind her.

Raziel was free at last to explore this strange city and its mysteries. Once Amanda was put safely to sleep in the cool, clean cot in the guest room of the old house, Raziel thanked the woman who seemed to stare at him with a mixture of worship and awe. He left the comfort of the hidden haven and strode into the village, which darkened almost as quickly as the sun had come up.

Ten minutes later, sloughing rain came hissing down from all directions. He hardly minded. He discarded his jacket to someone who needed it more, a lowly decadent who looked as cold and miserable as a lost stray dog. His black tee-shirt stuck to his chest and his hair was equally adhesive with the pouring rain. He tossed his head, flicking his hair out of his eyes that burned in the dimmed daylight.

There, in the narrow dirty streets of this desert oasis, he found his prey. A vampire. He felt its presence by the sensation in his body when the Reaver scouted it out as well. Due to the unleashed storm, the sunlight was muted and therefore less harmful. And when the Reaver quickened, he had no power to stop it. It roused itself and pierced through the shadows as he crept closer. Any true mortal life was far away, clearly out of earshot.

He pounced, driving the Reaver through the back of the interloper. His scream cut short as Raziel's free hand came to his head and snapped his neck to end any noise, regardless of them being completely alone. The death was soundless and the pain-filled sweetness of it filled him with more rapture than ever the drinking of blood had. Raziel needn't pull down his cowl - he breathed in the tingling breath of spiritual energy and felt it work its cursed magic on his body. He looked better, more alive again, and his human features freshened.

_So few... so very few vampires would be so careless... yet I should not dirty my good fortune with needless worries. Still... this place. It feels so familiar to me. Perhaps it is my imagination._

Giddy with the feeding, the Reaver was hardly finished. But sated for the moment, he forced the glowing entity back into safe-keeping and watched the vampire's body crumble into dust and become washed away down a rivulet of rainwater that ended in a drain at the bottom of the hill. He licked his lips for no reason, tasting the bitter rain of an alien world and felt more alone now than he ever had.

He treaded into the desert, feeling the ground give way beneath his feet occasionally. He sat atop a high out-cropping, crouching with the rain pounding against his back and the daylight sifting in between breaks in the clouds as the storm rolled overhead.

After awhile, he began to think of the Elder God. He longed for someone to talk to. But it was not for the Elder God's grating commands, nor his insinuating cruelty. No. He wanted Amanda. He wanted to know what troubled her so much about him. She seemed distant, as if the closer they came to their supposed solution, the more distraught she appeared.

"What manner of creature are you?" came a voice behind him. Raziel stood up sharply, but in doing so slipped on the wet stone and nearly fell down the side of the jagged hill if he hadn't gripped the stone with his talons. He clambored up again, eyes burning into the night.

"Speak," Raziel commanded. "Show yourself to me, or die."

The hilltop was flat, interrupted by several wind-blasted stones and among them stood a dark figure, wearing a long brown cloak that was whipped about in the gusting rain. A bolt of lightning cracked the sky and for a moment Raziel saw his face more clearly.

"Vampire or man? Demon or... messiah?" The word made him quiver. They struck a familiar chord. Raziel was not sure he liked it.

"Answer me, villain!" Raziel snarled, raising his voice. "Who are you?"

The man came forward slowly, every motion like dark poetry. Raziel felt him drip with vampirism and once again the Soul Reaver exerted its unfathomble will. And the result was unexpected. The vampire intruder recoiled as if repelled by sunlight itself but not quite. He recovered, and crouched as if prepping for an attack. "Magic..." the intruder snorted disgustedly. "You and your witch child have no power here. Go back to New York and don't return!"

"I have previous engagements I must attend. And I believe you are in no position to _command_. Look carefully, and see that your doom is approaching." Raziel motioned with the Reaver. Indeed, the storm that had taken hold of the land so quickly was nearing its swift end. The vampire turned, narrowing his cold blue eyes at the horizon. Then he backed away, staying in the shadow of a huge rock.

"My master shan't be pleased," came the angry hiss. The next instant he had leapt the stone and was gone, rushing off into the unknown.

Raziel stood in the dawning brightness. He felt the moisture being sucked away out of his clothes, leaving him hot and clammy. Nothing could have dampened his spirits more. But as the day progressed, he saw no more of the vampires and he was free to ponder at the existence of yet another Vampire Master to bar his progress.

When night started falling again, he carefully avoided human contact. The least he did was wander and watch, feeling no inclination to go explore the Spectral Realm. However, the city was a smorgasbord for exploration. He leapt from alcove to alcove, leaving his tattered wings tucked neatly inside his black shirt as he scrambled up brick walls and dropped down on the other side only to be faced with incredible obstacles. He never wandered far from Amanda's resting place.

Finally, when the edge of the golden sun touched the horizon, did Raziel make his way to the house where Amanda sat, comfortable on a blanketed cushion, eating food with the rest of the family. When the soul devourer entered, he was met with four pairs of alarmed eyes. Only Amanda seemed unperturbed, and seemed to care about as much as she would about a fly coming in through a window.

"I must speak with Amanda. Alone, please."

The mother gestured to a room, smiling anxiously as she drew her youngest son close to her side.

Amanda faced Raziel in the privacy of the dim guest room. Her arms were folded across her chest and she still looked sleepy, but rested. "What is it?"

"I saw another vampire."

"So?"

"He knew who we were. It disturbs me that at every turn, we find someone determined to disturb deter out quest. But the storm passed before I could ask him who he was. I did not recognize him. He had dark, wavy hair and eyes like coals."

"It's going to be night soon. Did you piss him off much?"

"I needn't have tried. He was angry just by us being here. If we are to explore further, we'd better get moving now." Painfully aware that she still regarded him with regret and anguish, he continued quietly. "We'll take our time. There's no use annihilating our chances of success by rushing headlong into imminent danger."

"Raziel," she whispered, softly and carefully. "Uhh..." She seemed positively ill. But she straightened, choking out her statement. "I don't want you to go back to Nosgoth."

"It can't be helped... you've come all this way now. Why are you turning back?"

"I didn't say I was turning back," she answered coldly. "I... I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Obviously."

Amanda clenched her fists before throwing her hand up in the air irritably. "Well... I think I've memorized the spell... I don't need to carry my books now. Just these." She lifted a belt, strategically placed pouches all around it, with her many sorceress ingredients. She picked up a necklace from low circle table by the cot. She put it around her neck, brushing her fingers over the metal. "...this is important."

"You shouldn't lose it."

She secured the belt. His eyes watched her hands work at the simple, but sturdy mechanism. When she finally clasped it together at the front of her slightly exposed navel, the two halves of the belt-buckle came together to depict, of all things, wings. "What is the necklace for?"

"It's something Egyptian that the lady gave me. It's something between an ankh and something else. I'm not certain what. But it's supposed to work against vampires."

Suddenly she noticed where his eyes were, and where they were aimed at. Blushing, but nonplussed, she stepped forward and nuzzled his chest, wrapping her arms around his ribs. Her hands met against his shoulder blades, where she fingered through the damp tee-shirt the non-existent joints where his once glorious wings would have been.

"I wish I could have fixed them, too." Her whisper was like a winter caress in the stuffy heat of this one room. It made him quiver like barren oak boughs in the throes of blasting frigid wind. "I could still try..."

"Please," Raziel whispered coarsely. Why did his throat stick that way? "You've done so much already. Save your strength for future trials."

The once vampire heeded his own advice and proceeded to detach her from him. She needed little persuasion. She pulled away with a look of mild anguish and brushed past him, shoving his arm out of the way. Aggravated, he turned to glare at her back and then the door as it closed.

Acting out because of a choice that she herself had made didn't seem very mature to him. If she didn't want to be here, that was her own fault, not his, unless her actions were telling him something else - no, he wouldn't dare go so far as to think that. She hardly felt that way about him. Just as a friend, maybe not even that anymore. Perhaps he was just an annoyance to be aided and then be rid of as soon as the task was done.

Very well. If that was the way the witch felt, and he certainly didn't mind--

_Oh yes, you do. You mind it very much, Soul Reaver._

Maybe he did. But that didn't excuse the blazing fact that he needed to return to Nosgoth. He trusted Amanda enough to get him there. That was all.


	16. The Reaver Cathedral

The night was a swift killer. As if a shade had been drawn, darkness filled every street corner as they walked. Raziel was ever on the alert. He no longer walked comfortably as he was used to, but skulked like a hunted thing. Amanda realized he was probably very used to it, for he fell into it as though it were an old routine.

"Vampires obviously don't mind water," Raziel said suddenly. "It was pouring outside when he came, but dark enough so that sunlight did not bother him. He ran away before the storm passed to escape the danger of the sun."

"Burning like acid..." Amanda murmured, clutching at the necklace. She hoped the bauble will have some effect on the vampire scourge just as well as Raziel's spirit weapon did.

A rock scuttled in the shadows. Almost simultaneously Raziel tensed and crouched, his arm glowing like being wrapped in a transparent greenish-blue silk banner. Likewise, Amanda held a few words of incantation on her tongue. She had been practicing in her mind whenever she wasn't peering precariously into each shadow she passed through.

The disturbance set them both ill at ease. When nothing else came, not a sound or a whisper, they went forward. Amanda followed the direction of the spell she had cast, leading them on by a very dim, hidden glow in the palm of her hand. She checked it, seeing an emblazoned 'arrow' apparently pointing toward their destination. It was quite nifty and she had a really fun time trying to figure out how to get the spell just right.

Their progress was impeded only a tenth of a way to their destination. Not one, but four vampires stepped in front of them, melting out of the twisted wreckage of an old office building along the length of the Nile. They all appeared similar in dress, and their hair was similar in that it was black, cropped and wavy. Their skin could have been dark, but the underlying pallor of the dead was there.

"Turn away, strangers," said the first, a tall muscled vampire with emerald eyes and a face like a leopard's snarl. "You're walking the streets of our great lord and master. You have been warned before!"

"If we could but the lord and master here, we would kindly ask his permission," Raziel leered, "but as his presence is not immediate, I find myself inclined to continue regardless. The sooner I find what I seek, you will see me no more."

"Give us the girl, and maybe we'll let you pass," another hissed, eyeing Amanda.

She rolled her eyes and stood at Raziel's back, silent.

The first vampire growled, slowly drawing a narrow, lethal twenty-four-inch blade."Then you seek death, fools. And you shall have it!"

It was a mistake to believe that the four vampires would lunge first, when it was in fact two came from the side. Amanda was practically drilled into the ground and she barely had any air left in her lungs to scream. Her elbow was ragged with fresh scrapes, and found herself tangled against the snarling vampire. Its pearl claws scraped against her throat and when she felt the cold breath of him, she coughed out a word and slamed her palm against the side of his face.

Amidst the other hellish screaming as the Reaver sought to rip the immortals' flesh to pieces, she saw her own attacker fly away from her and roll all five full times like a log across the ground, one half of its face and shoulder charred black. She saw the whites of his teeth where his lips had curled back. He was exhausted already. Raziel didn't hesitate to impale him before turning to the next foe.

Having dispatched two already, Raziel finished the third and faced the remaining three. "Bastards," he snarled, licking his lips - for the simple love of slaughter! "My power is too great for you. Run home to your beloved father and don't make the same mistake again."

Amanda scrambled to her feet, gasping as she clutched her arm to her chest. For pity's sake, it hurt! She stared at the vampires, who circled round-about with their own savage bloodlust in their eyes. The one closest to Amanda bared her teeth and lunged again. Amanda threw her arms up to ward her, screaming her words again, sending a flash of blinding, otherworldly brilliance into her face. It was like sunlight. She burst into flames and leapt clear of her.

"_It burns, god help me, it burns!!_" Falling to the ground, she writhed in agony before she crumbled to nothing.

Amanda repeated it again, gasping at the agony in her chest that began spilling through her. She felt magic coursing through her, possessing her and draining her it seemed of every drop of heat in her body. She shivered and watched another vampire fall fast to the swift sun spell she cast, just as Raziel destroyed the last.

Raziel stepped over to her. She saw his pants in the dim light buzzing and crackling from the Reaver's ever-changing, ever-talkative blade. It was pulsing and throbbing with the powerful lust, aroused nearly to turning on him. But as the seconds ticked away it was good to let the Reaver relax, indulge in its power for awhile.

He crouched, reaching out to stroke her hair a little. She sat on the ground, pallid and feeble. She took hold of his arm and he pulled her to her feet.

"Next time we battle, girl... keep your spells to a minimum. You nearly blinded me."

"I'm sorry," Amanda whispered honestly, leaning against his non-Reaver side. "I only knew the words.. I prepared them all before.. but it's taxing me."

"Take care," he replied. "Don't exhaust yourself for me."

"I don't want to be useless."

"You will be if you tire yourself too quickly! Come."

He aided her along gently. Gradually her strength came back, lessened noticably. Her steps quickened and she pulled free, jogging alongside him, following the arrow blazing in the center of her hand. The suddenly started over a bridge that seemed to materialize out of the darkness like a phantom structure, manifest out of hell. Now, here in the vulnerable openness of the highway bridge she could see the moon's reflection in the swift-moving waters.

She could just imagine the countless eyes that watched them, and the stories that seemed to burden this very river, biblical and full of prophesy. How ironic that Raziel's destiny would continue from this capital of myth and legend, of secrets and martyrs and religion. She listened to his panting as he ran, stopping only once to take a quick look around him.

It was peaceful. The middle east wind pulled at her short hair, making her skin bristle. The night felt good. She loved it more than the day, and she had forgotten about being cold, being lost and helpless and floundering in the snow like a duckling.

They ran again. She halted suddenly, for waiting for them at the other end of the night-enclosed bridge were vampires again. How many were there!? Surely Darius's coven wasn't nearly so big! Just a few, a precious handful, full of companions...

These companions were armed better to kill. With guns.

They warned them in the same way that the ones before had done. The same dark, wavy hair. There were only three, but the pair was ready to expect more. As instructed, Amanda hung back from fighting and magic, even if she still felt the tug of battle pulling on her and she felt her power come to her command. She waited it out, seeing that Raziel had things under control completely. She hid behind a weathered steel column.

He charged them, head down, his eyes leaving a fiery trail of green in the night. He leapt against the first, kicking off of his chest and sending him spinning into the dirt. Rebounding from his chest, he crashed into the second with his talons, shredding his snarling face before pulverizing his throat with one final wrenching twist.

Blood spattered everywhere. Raziel's face was speckled with it, a startling crimson contract to his unearthly white skin. The last vampire standing held the gun shakily pointed at him. Raziel stood up, licking his claws, for although he held no desire for blood... somehow the taste of it was satisfying, though it hardly filled his own hunger. He had killed the last two with his own hands, and their souls lingered still, confused, angry, but helpless.

He made his point clear, as he breathed in slowly, letting his claws hang at his sides and feeling the souls drawn into him. They cried out in horror, for what new terrors awaited them in the unseen maw of the reaver of souls?

The survivor was horrified. He was tossed between wanting to shoot, stay, be killed, or run, live, become a coward. Raziel stepped closer, baring his fangs, seeing that the gun was beginning to fall loose out of the vampire's hands. He knocked it aside, and it skittered across the asphalt with a clatter. In the same motion, his striking hand was followed by the next and he snatched the limp hand. He pulled him close.

"You can still run," he whispered soothingly, stroking his hair gently, simultaneously slowly squeezing the blood out of his forearm. "You can still live your pathetic unlife serving some divine elder, an unthinking machine which runs on blood as cars run on gasoline...if you can understand me."

The terror was more than Raziel could bear. It was enough. He pushed the vampire away with a curse of disgust, not even turning long enough to watch him scrabble away in outright animal fear. Gone in an instant, like an unpleasant daydream.

When Raziel found Amanda, she was crawling out from behind the metal pillar and picking up the gun. She smiled at him, tilting her head a little. "This won't waste too much energy," she said proudly, carefully pointing the gun at the ground. She noticed the look in his face, and added quietly, "You're not feeling remorse are you? These guys are asking for it."

"They're not," Raziel replied. "They're only doing what they have been told. I know the feeling. I let that one go because...because..."

"You owe him?"

Raziel shook his head. "These are just followers. I may seem to enjoy seeing them die - in fact, sometimes I honestly admit that I do - but I tried to show one of them some measure of mercy."

Amanda arched a brow, incredulous. "Okay. That's just weird. But why would you show them mercy if they're all out to kill you?"

"I'm not a heartless murderer. I won't kill indiscriminantly until I know who is behind all of this."

"Maybe they live in the cathedral and they probably don't want you crashing their little party," the young witch supplied, brushing her hands through her sweat-soaked hair. "Can we... can we take a break? I'm a little tired."

They walked a safe distance from the bridge before she sat down on a large plastic milk carton stack. Raziel crouched in the darkness, pawing at the dirt. Finding no traces, he wipes it clean and began scratching his name out in what he hoped was accurate writing. Then he swiped that clean, too.

In a few minutes, they were off again. The cathedral was near, and Raziel's destiny would soon continue.


	17. Transport Chamber

The monstrous building had a Roman quality to it. Amanda could tell just because it seemed way too beautiful, too much detail had been put into it for the country's main religion. As she stepped close to it, the gun in hand, Raziel suddenly pulled her back a step by her shoulder.

"Wait."

He walked forward, his hand slipping from her shoulder. The massive doors were inlaid with unfamiliar designs, although some carried a familiar note. Obviously more so for Raziel, for he seemed taken to the ones with the design of the sword, which covered the split between the two large doors.

Finally he pulled on the large handles, opening them wide and letting the candle-light spill outside. He cast a slightly terrifying shadow. His eyes' glow intensified as they adjusted to the swift change in lighting. The human girl swiftly scampered up after him, being unnerved in the darkness below. She slipped in and stood, leaning her hands against the back of the rear pew.

Once they established that they were alone for awhile, Amanda set about casting a couple of minor level spells, giving herself protection, lighting her own candles, sitting in the middle of the floor with her eyes closed. Raziel explored the room alone, touching the walls and brushing his claws over the tapestries. He pulled them down, eliciting a gasp from Amanda.

"What the fuck?"

"I'm looking for other doorways. There may not be anything down that way. Just keep doing what you're doing."

The tone was rather condescending. It made Amanda's skin bristle against the back of her neck, like he just ran his claws through her spiderwebbed nerves and ripped them apart. She took a deep, steadying breath before she put her ingredients back in their proper places. She was finished anyway. "Maybe we should just split up."

"Perhaps. But that weapon will not serve you for very long."

Amanda followed him, stepping over huge tumbled lengths of crimson tapestry, tripping and landing in the dust-laden fabric before she could get up again. Finally he pulled one down, near the huge angelic motif near the front of the cathedral, shrouded with shadows cast by a large candle set-up. The wall was made of stone, while the rest was dark oak wood. There was the unmistakable sword design again, an ominous keyhole, and a faint shimmer that even Amanda could detect.

She stood back, and felt a chill as her ears picked up faint screams as the Reaver manifested. She watched it coil its way from his shoulder, around his arm and then outward from his hand like a serpentine blade. It roared with energy, blazing with ethereal radiance before calming and roiling quietly like a coming storm.

He took a breath and drove it into the hole. It was drawn in like the 'keyhole' were a vacuum. He turned it with muscles tensing and withdrew it, watching the door open with a ton of dust pouring down around them. Amanda swiped her hand through the air and sneezed.

"Dusty. Maybe they need a choir boy in here to do some dusting once in awhile," Amanda commented, stifling a cackle.

The doors slammed shut behind them only a few steps within the dark tunnel. Amanda couldn't see a damn thing except by the light of the Reaver and the glow in Raziel's eyes. She carefully stayed on his left hand side, away from the maniacal blade, and she walked forward with him into the stagnant darkness.

To Raziel's sight, the walls which were apparently as clear as day, were familiar to him. Murals were the end-all story tellers of his world, telling secrets that he didn't understand until someone had but to explain their meaning. These seemed to be displaying unrecognizable figures in a vast room, all of them, in black robes whose hoods shadowed their faces. Further along showed the proceedings. A portal was raised against a wall with arcane symbols; two figures approached it. One of them was strikingly familiar, but the face was blank.

The other had an uncanny resemblance to himself. Another prophetic image he had to divulge. Amanda couldn't see these in the dark, not even by his own light, but by her reactions she knew he was noticing something.

"What is it?" she whispered, one hand clutching the symbol she wore around her neck, the other the gun in her belt.

"It seems," he began, "we may be expected."

"Oh, yay. Maybe they've got some cookies or something. I'm really hungry."

"Did you know you're not really that funny?"

"You know you want to laugh. But you can't, because you're a stuffy old guy in a scary soul-eating personality. And stop picking on me!"

Raziel smiled, chuckling to himself. They rounded a corner which was bathed in yellow torchlight. The murals became more muddled, as if they were walking closer and closer to their unknown future. Raziel had the distinct feeling that he was inside the Chronoplast room once more, facing off with Kain and viewing things that were perhaps forbidden to him. Such knowledge was common in Nosgoth. It was all in how you interpreted it all.

They descended a few sets of stairs, the walls becoming made of hard limestone instead of piles of rock. Their trip was silent, and finally, where she began to hear water dripping from the shadows, they reached a huge pair of doors. However, opening them revealed a grated doorway which by all means meant that they could go no further.

Well. Amanda couldn't, anyway.

"I can move through objects such as these in the Spectral Realm. But I can't touch anything physical, or move objects in the material world."

"How is that going to help me? I can't put a portal through the gate for you."

"It won't be necessary." Raziel suddenly sagged, slowly falling apart in particles and clumps of glowing Raziel dust.

------

It was unnerving to see the human vanish before his eyes. The realm was as he remembered it. The torches contrasted sharply as they blazed with blinding white light. Everything was cast in an unnatural blue hue, as if he were in a watery world stained with blue dye instead of green. He approached the gate and passed through it, pulling his incorporeal being through it and gazed about the room beyond. Several braziers filled the circular room, each of them burning bright. He searched the skewed floor, the walls, before a ledge quickly came to his attention. He leapt to it, scrambling up, suddenly noticing he was not as he was in the material world. He was just like before, a ghoul that devoured souls.

_Very well. It doesn't matter here, anyway._ From his new vantage point, he observed the design on the floor from above. Then there was the design on the wall, directly underneath him. It wasn't fun staring at it slightly upside down. It didn't seem to make any sense to him, so he stood up again and leapt to another ledge, facing a huge chandalier. He looked around, and there, ah, yes. A Planar Portal! He jumped to it immediately, and was about to switch when a voice from behind him turned him about.

The voice was crying. He peered with a predator's intent into the shadows. He was a little soul-starved. But what spirit could be about, crying like this, in a tomb so far from the surface?

"Stop crying, whoever you are."

Sniffles. A hiccup. "_What? What's this? Who are you?_"

"I asked you before. Answer me."

The ghost came forward, a haggard little spirit with straggly blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Then again, his eyes were also blue. She was just a child, with tattered overalls and a tee-shirt. One side of her face was blasted off and she was missing three fingers on her right hand.

"_Daddy? Where's my daddy? Why did daddy leave?_" she simpered, crawling closer and reaching out to him. "_I haven't seen you before... have you seen daddy? You're not supposed to be here..._"

Raziel hissed, pushing at her. "G-Get away, spirit! I don't know your father, and I am not your father!" He breathed deep, and heard her horrified, strangely enraged scream as he vanished from her. Unfortunately, the ledge upon which he stood melted into the wall and he was forced to free-fall down into the room. He landed on his feet rather awkwardly. The clothes he wore intact as was his state.

_Maybe I've got too much on my mind. I wonder who in blazes that annoying ghost was? How odd that she should linger here... in this place._

He looked around. Amanda was staring at him, having seen him fall apparently out of nowhere. He waved, before exploring the room. The braziers were bright and the fires roared softly.

"Do you see anything? A switch, a lever..."

He pulled on a large lever on the floor by the grate. It continued to open as long as he held the lever. Once it locked into place, Amanda quickly ran under it, skidding to a stop as she gasped at the symbols on the wall in front of her.

"Oh my god! This looks like... like... that book. Okay!" Her breathing quickened. The sheer immensity of this room astounded her. "This is like...out of the Mummy or something."

She sat down on the floor, removed her sneakers, and rubbed her feet. She was tired of walking, and her pain was obvious as she grimaced. And maybe something else was on her mind. Raziel approached her, knelt, touched her shoulder. She tensed, however slightly, but leaned toward him. "We've almost got it. We're here."

A wrenching sadness ensued. Raziel looked into her face, which was wrought with a sort of sorrowful gladness - for him, not for herself.

"Why don't you want me to leave?" he asked softly. "Answer me honestly."


	18. The Gift

Raziel did not, in truth, expect a truthful answer. He expected a human lie, something he would have accepted without complaint. But the fact was, he was usually wrong about such judgements, just as he had been wrong about Kain being the benevolent, truthworthy creature he was.

Moebius was obviously an idiot, prattling on about his 'God'. And the Elder God was about as trustworthy as a giant squid, pardon the insult.

Her eyes had taken to them that peculiar shine when he knew she was about to start crying, or already was. He knew then that the honesty was hurting her. She swallowed, sliding herself toward him with a small smile. "Raziel..." She was as strung as a metal coil spring. Raziel was hard-pressed to find the true reason, but in the back of his mind it was tickling at his awareness.

He reached out to her to take her hand. But he barely brushed her fingers when he sensed a screeching danger so close to him that he leapt toward her, pinning her to the floor as a spray of knives went hissing overhead. He felt them snip open his shirt and send a needle of pain through his shoulderblade.

"You will have to ask her in the true afterlife, fiend," the purring voice so deep, it felt like it came out of the floor. "For you are not leaving this room by any means."

Raziel stared down at the human girl, barely registering the speaking voice, hardly believing that yet another obstacle stood in his way. But his life was riddled with obstacles, non-living and living alike. He slid back, turning on his heel to face his new enemy in a crouch.

"And who are you to disturb my journey?" he demanded hotly. "A new foe? Wonderful. I need the exercise!"

"I am Sethys. You needn't overwork yourself, creature. This chamber will become your tomb shortly, and you have all the time in the world to think of ways to torture me."

"Oh... well, that's great," Amanda stood up. "Meanwhile, I'm going to send him home and you can kill me. I don't care. Just let him go."

"What?" Sethys laid his cold, amber-colored eyes on the girl as if he'd never even noticed her in the room. "Oh, the witch speaks. Given the opportunity, I would love to see you work your magic. But the Door must not be opened, for once it has, it cannot be shut and we have worked hard over the last thousand years to keep it so."

The vampire stepped into the room, sweeping open his long coat and letting it drift to the floor. He had long, dark hair like the many lesser kindred they had seen, and with every vampire lord there is a sort of vanity that wants the company of those who look most like him, especially older vampires. Raziel was positively disgusted.

The Reaver thought so, too.

"Ah. He carries that. Damnable weapon! I thought it was lost centuries ago! Why do you have it?"

"Silence and leave, unless you want to die!" the Soul Reaver snarled, leaping toward him and swiping the shrieking blade. The vampire Sethys barely had time to move away, but he swerved around him, reaching to grab hold of Raziel's throat and throw him into a brazier, knocking it and Raziel to the ground.

Amanda moved away slowly, leaving her sneakers sitting like a pair of forgotten puppies in the middle of the floor. Then she turned, dropping down onto the floor and quickly browsing the symbols on the wall. She bent her head then, hearing Raziel's harsh cries of battle. She ducked her head just in time as another brazier was flung, scalding her ear with a hot ember from it. She spread her things out, speaking her spell to herself so fast it was like a babbling brook from her mouth. It didn't yet cross her mind that she was still going through with this, even when she... needed Raziel.

Raziel was hardly aware that she was working, battling the vampire with every ounce of power he had. He was powerful, but the vampire didn't know his tricks and his moves, and it was a wonder the vampire put up such a good fight at all. Still, the vampire fought with two blades of somewhat equal length and cut into Raziel whenever he was ever a little slower or a little more careless.

And occasionally, he would notice Amanda and dive for her. Before he could reach her, Raziel would savagely intervene with a tackle that sent them sprawling to the limestone floor.

"Damn you to Hell, you bastard!" Sethys howled, raising his arm and plunging it into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Raziel bit out a hoarse cry of agony, his fangs glinting off the light cast from the churning depths of the slowly awakening door.

He saw the light of it. It looked completely black. The stars seemed to swirl as though in a vortex, hinting at colors he couldn't name but were close to obsidian, subtleties in the light changes that were impossible to calculate. A thrill shot through him, and it wasn't only because he was engrossed in a heated battle and he still felt the pain of the knife in his dead flesh.

Light exploded from behind his eyes. Sethys was driving him to rage with this pain, with each breath he took gave him more agony and stole more of his energy away. He finally howled, reaching to grab him by the skull. The moment he had him, he used every ounce of his remaining strength and sent him sailing like a bag of bricks into the wall, which unfortunately had a sharp obtrusion from which hung another glowing light source. He was impaled instantly.

Raziel followed up by picking up one of the nearby braziers and threw it at him as well. The embers splashed into his face, and he was immediately on fire, screaming and howling with agony. His ghost was naturally forthcoming and Raziel devoured the soul without a pinch of remorse.

In spite of feeding to replenish his energy, the state of his body was crumbling. He'd already lost most of his body mass to the injuries he had sustained. Before he had long to mourn the loss of his well-being, Amanda had grabbed onto his claw and started pulling him toward the roaring door. The sound was like the constant roar of the Lake of the Dead, with its voices screaming in the distance. He was loathe to go near it.

"Wait," he hissed, pulling his claw free. He pointed it in her startled face. "I still haven't gotten your answer!"

"There's no time," she cried, grabbing onto his arm. The next moment she flung her arms around his neck and started to kiss his cheek, just beneath his left eye. Her eyes were bleeding tears non-stop, but her voice was unwavering. "I love you, Raziel!"

His eyes grew wide. She pulled back, holding onto his shoulders before she began to grow limp. Her lips moved with some meaning he didn't understand until he saw the vampires pooling at the entrance of the chamber. Momentarily stunned by the light and sound, one of them fired in hopes of killing the witch and stopping the door from being opened.

It was all too late. Raziel sunk down onto the floor just a few feet from the threshold of the portal, holding her body close. She was still trying to speak, but it was increasingly difficult to understand. Raziel sent a telekinetic blast toward the switch and impaled another vampire on the falling spikes of the gate. He devoured its energy before looking down at her.

"My... soul!" she cried at last. It was peeling away from her. Blazing brightly.

She was dying. She wanted Raziel to take her soul with him. Raziel was torn, touching her face and watching her small hands clasp his claw. She was freezing, while all the warm blood in her was pooling around her and soaking through his pant leg and sticking to his skin.

All the while he had been so concerned with returning to Nosgoth, killing Kain, something precious had been given to him and now it was fading before his eyes.

Instinct rebelled with his emotions. The excruciating battle within himself was not made lighter with the screaming of the vampires on the other side of the gate, suddenly aware of their lord and master burning upon the spike in the wall.

"It's... not fair..." he growled, pulling her close. He closed his eyes. Then he kissed her.

It wasn't difficult. Her indomitable spirit practically jumped from her body, although something inside wouldn't allow all of it to simply vanish. From mouth to mouth, he sipped at her spirit in exchange for some of his own, but this final action was beyond his awareness and if he had known, he would have returned to Nosgoth knowing the truth.


	19. A Bloody Epilogue

Author's Note: Okay... my AU's have been pretty silent for the most part. However, I didn't like how I left the last chapter. Amanda deserves more. Okay, maybe it's because she's actually me, in a sense... but pinkfuzzyone's last review has given me insight. I really 'didn't' explain a whole lot... other than Sethys probably being one of that high vampire master's many world-wide bouncin' baby boys.

And now - you will see the true enemies. (Thanks for Michael Bell for making that line somehow incredibly useful, not to mention funny in some insane way. Winks)

-------------------------

Once Raziel had passed through the portal, it clapped shut and made a thunderous sound that made the stone halls rumble. Dust fell in thick clumps from the shadows above, hissing and snapping if they struck the torches. Two shadows came from the door, stopping short at the sight of the weeping vampire sons. Their father dead, all of them were doomed to death and insanity. There was no will to guide them now, no higher strength to soften the death of their souls.

Without hesitation the shadows slaughtered them each, putting their souls to rest when they in fact only lingered in the Spectral Realm. But they had no knowledge of such things, and only had more pressing matters to attend.

The oldest vampire approached the gate without stopping, and seemed to melt through it at will in a form of mist. The other waited for his companion, holding the lever. As it went up, he stepped over the impaled body that fell from the spikes after being elevated for a prolonged period of time.

"Darius," the eldest kindred said. "It is good that you came with me. It seems we're too late. The portal has been opened, with no hopes of shutting it unless we call the council."

The eldest approached the bleeding body of the witch. She was laying on the floor, hands resting against her heart, her pooled blood coagulating around here. He slid his finger over the floor and licked at it. "It's still warm..."

Darius approached the scorched cadaver on the wall. His eyes watered crimson. "Sethys is dead."

"I know. We will mourn your brother later. We have other matters."

"Such as?" Darius turned sharply, his shoes clicking pointedly to announce that he was paying attention. He watched as his father lifted the human witch and support her against the inside of his thigh, pressing his fingers gently against her throat before he smiled wickedly. He stood up, carrying her; he shuddered as he felt a fresh rush of blood spill hot against his chest.

"She still lives. The other has gone through the portal, as you said he would. For now...what to do with this child?"

Darius's lips curled with hatred. His fangs were shining already; something evil moved him, some emotion that his Sire felt keenly.

"I want her."

"So I know it. But, my angry little child, what do you plan on doing with her once you have her? Surely we will need a new guardian."

Darius approached him. The girl was not conscious, but her efforts to hold onto anything guided her hands to Darius's sleeve as he reached toward her face, running his thumbnail over her dirt-stained cheek. He smiled again, although it was not without its hint of kindness.

"Most of this mess is her fault. We'll make her pay for it in blood. But we'll save her miserable life and book her up to live in Seth's old mansion first. It's time she learned exactly what sort of black magic she has dabbled with."

The shadows left, the one called Darius and his blood Sire, planning the future destiny for the witch-girl who opened the door and loved a soul-devourer called Raziel.

"...What do you suppose happened to that one - Raziel?"

"Perhaps it is not for us to know. Other worlds must keep to their own business, I suppose."

-------------------------

Author's Note: Alright... it's a bit weirded out... but just so you know! Yeah. You know I'm going to right another story after this one, right? Be comforted, Kain-lovers. I am not without mercy. Well.... sometimes. -smiles-


End file.
